Any Given Someday
by Aprill May
Summary: [MS AU] Who left who, she didn't really know. All she could really think about was the fact that he was no longer there. Complete.
1. Last Dance

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.

A/N: Aside from this author's note, inserted comments will be minimal, just stuff I might want to clarify at the beginning before people read, mainly just to keep the flow of the story (since it might be hard to understand at first). Yes, this is an idea that's been done countless times, many probably better than what I'm offering now, but we'll see how it goes.

_Final Note: _Kat, you **know** this is for you, because I like to spoil you (and I missed your birthday). Blame her for this story even existing.

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_Sango groaned and punched Miroku playfully on the chest as he scooped her up in his arms and kicked open the first door in his line of sight._

"_Miroku!" she giggled. "That's a bathroom."_

_He grinned. "How about it?"_

"_I don't think so," she said, shaking her head. "That's practically a closet! How about you -"_

"_Carry you up the stairs like in a cheesy romance novel?" he finished for her. "While a random wind blows my ruffly white shirt open and your hair blows enchantingly around your flushed face as you say, 'Oh Miroku!' like a sighing schoolgirl?"_

"_Why do you have to twist my words around?" she pouted. "I was going to say go up to our room!"_

"_Sango!" he whined. "We just finished bringing in most of my things and my arms hurt. I don't think I'll make it up the stairs without collapsing halfway."_

"_Are you saying I'm heavy?"_

_His expression grew slightly panicked. "Well - I ... of course not!"_

_She laughed again, slinging her arms around his neck. "You're silly."_

_He made a face at her. "Besides, we've been in your room before."_

"Our_ room," she corrected, poking him on the cheek. "Well then," she continued with a sigh. "I guess we could just finish moving everything and start unpacking... If you're so...tired."_

_It was his turn to shake his head. "I meant 'lifting heavy things tired,' not 'unable to perform' tired. Anyway, we're already kind of sweaty, so why give up halfway?"_

_She arched one of her elegant brows. "Unable to perform?"_

_He looked as though he was suddenly struck with an idea. "Hold on for a minute," he instructed, maneuvering her body so that she was able to hang off him in a piggyback._

"_Wouldn't it be easier if you just put me down?" she said, laughing. _

"_It would kill the mood," he said instantly. "If I pick you up in my arms with a suggestive look on my face, with the intent to engage in questionable-by-Kohaku conduct, and you are all for it, I am _so_ not putting you down."_

_Taking one of the large boxes from which they had removed some of his more fragile items, he turned it over, the hardwood of the floor becoming covered with a layer of styrofoam pieces and bubble wrap. He did the same with a few more boxes before tossing them aside and gathering Sango back in his arms._

"_Now, I'm not sure how comfortable this will be. In all honesty, it was a split second idea."_

_She only smiled and rolled her eyes. The bed of styrofoam snow and plastic bubble wrap had never looked so appealing. _

"_Well then," she said thoughtfully, cocking her head to the side. "It will be an interesting experiment to say the least."_

"_Oh yes," he said knowingly, nodding. "All in the name of science, indeed."_

"_Plus, we're already halfway there, right?" she reminded him._

_-_

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**Any Given Someday**

Chapter One:

_The Last Dance_

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"Take something lighter, won't you Sango?" a tall man with grey eyes chided her.

Her eye twitched. She secured her grip on the box and coolly walked over to the dolly that was a few feet away, dropping the box onto it.

"It's hardly ten steps," she said nonchalantly as she made her way back to pick up another box.

"Yes, but you shouldn't strain yourself," the man continued from where he was moving the boxes out of a truck onto the curb.

"Listen Takeda-san, when I said I'd help you move, I thought you meant that I would actually help you instead of just standing around and watching you."

She dropped the next box on top of the stack, from a higher height than was necessary. She smirked inwardly as he winced at the faint cracking sound.

"Could you be a little easier on the boxes Sango?"

Kicking the dolly forward onto its wheels, she pushed it through the entrance to the condominium.

"Don't worry, I will," she said with a backwards glance. "You're on the fifth floor, right?" she added casually as the door closed behind her, preventing his answer from being heard.

Another hour of forced conversation and masked sarcastic answers on her part and finally, _finally_ she would be done her good deed for the day and be able to go home. Unfortunately, the guy never stopped hoping. He was too confident for his own good.

"Is that everything?" she asked flatly, looking the halls up and down.

"Yes, it is . . . but aren't you tired? You want to come in for tea or something?"

She shook her head. "No, no, that's alright." She pushed her hair behind her ear. "I've got to be getting home anyway. Kohaku will be back from school soon."

She shifted her weight from right to left and straightened the collar of her coat. "Are you sure?" he tried again.

With a vigorous nod, she bid him goodbye, and had walked away a few steps when his slightly hopeful voice sounded behind her.

"Hey, Sango, I can drive you if you want, you know."

She shook her head again, her ponytail swaying in waves behind her. "You know I live close by. Isn't that the whole reason father suggested you move here?"

The irritation in her voice floated right by him. "I can walk with you then. It's raining outside."

"No," she said firmly. My, was he resilient. "A little rain won't kill me. It's okay. I'll be fine."

"But what if -"

"It's only a few blocks away."

"But you're not over what happened with - "

"I'll be fine!" she snapped. "It's not like the rain will fall from the sky and stab me in various parts of my body!"

That didn't sit too well. After all, she wasn't made of stone was she? His hurt expression got to her, because despite how she was acting, she was still the compassionate Sango underneath. She wasn't_ invincible._

"Sorry."

It was his turn to shake his head. "No, don't worry about it."

"If you say so..." She was now officially uncomfortable. "I'll be going then."

-

The rainy season in Tokyo was just beginning to get underway. Today was not that bad though, just a light introductory drizzle, ensuring a greater humidity the next day. Walking the usual route down the block, she kept her head forward and didn't let her gaze waver. She was focused on moving forward.

Her father had called yesterday, from somewhere in the Polynesian Islands. As per usual, they went through the routine of 'how's work - how's life' and then he gave her the news: that he was the devil's advocate who'd suggested Takeda Kuranosuke move into one of the new condominiums that were built in the urban expansion.

"Now I know you just got out of a rocky relationship," he said, not sounding very sympathetic, "but I've done lots of business with Kuranosuke's father and he's a very respectable boy. Just got back from attending university overseas, ready to take over the family business, unlike - "

"That's enough, father," Sango cut in, gripping the receiver tightly.

"Not to mention he is very interested in you Sango," he continued, undeterred. "He's willing to move to the next town to be closer to you. He's worried."

She wound the cord around her index finger. "Worried about what?"

"Well, from what Kuranosuke-san told me you were quite upset when that other man moved out."

"What? You talked to Takeda? When?" she snapped defensively.

"I had stopped in the United States for a few weeks last month and I contacted him."

"And you didn't think to contact me?" she said in disbelief, leaning against the counter. "Sango, your daughter?"

There was silence on the other line, except for something like shuffling papers.

"Sango, honey, I have to go now, the business meeting will be picking up soon. I'll call you later. I love you."

"Love you," she said hollowly.

Not much later, she got a call from the kiss-up himself, informing her of his surprise move across town. She agreed to help him get his things together, subjecting herself to a morning of him worrying about her pulling a muscle, straining her back and shoulders, and dying of exhaustion.

At least when she had helped Miroku move in, he would try to pull out all the heavier boxes for her to take first . . .

Even though a few months later they only had to move them all back to his apartment anyway.

His apartment, where he had lived alone a few years.

She wondered if it still looked the same.

She shouldn't even had been able to recall that one measly memory, much less be thinking of him at all, but lately, her little refuge she had built around herself was a strange place, where the 'us' that was her and Miroku had never existed, and sometimes, she wanted to flee from it.

Looking up, she realized her feet had carried her to the next street past her house, and she backtracked, kicking loose pebbles on the sidewalk along the way to the modest home that she, her younger brother, and occasionally her father, occupied.

After their mother had died, their father had sold their pricey apartment in the city in favor of a smaller home, situated in the quiet, less-costly suburbs. Since he was away from home for long periods of time, he said it was pointless to buy a large house when it would often just be the two of them, Sango and Kohaku, living there.

So he saved up enough to put the down payment on the house and sent money monthly to help Sango handle the mortgage and utilities. Since she was an adult, she took care of most money matters.

It had taken her a while, but she eventually grew to love the small, cottage-like home. She and Kohaku had painted it a light goldenrod and fitted white window boxes to the window frames. They were tired as hell afterward, but they both admitted later over chilly glasses of lemonade that it was worth it.

She fitted her key into the lock, the sound of the breeze hitting the silver wind chime on the porch blending into the background.

The house felt empty when she was there alone, especially on this Saturday morning. Kohaku attended school until midday on two Saturdays a month, and this was one of them. These used to be Miroku's favourite days, because they could cuddle late into the morning without worry of 'being heard.'

This was the first one without him, and she had instead spent it with a man who felt it was a crime against nature itself that she wasn't taken with him at first sight.

"Kohaku?" she called into the empty foyer as she slipped her shoes off. Putting them down, she saw his were nowhere to be found. Hanging up her keys and coat, she pulled the elastic out from her hair, her body slightly sticky from the humidity of the rain and from moving Takeda Kuranosuke's abundance of belongings for a good three or four hours.

As she washed the sweat from her body in the shower, her mind wandered vaguely through various subjects ranging from what to have for dinner tonight to when Takeda would come calling again, the latter which she wasn't looking forward to.

She absent-mindedly massaged rosemary scented shampoo into her scalp before the stream of water from the shower head rinsed the lathered-up foam from her hair.

It had barely been a week, perhaps two at most. The exact date he had left wasn't really clear; he had returned to pick up things occasionally over the next few days. Then, it had ended. Communication had ceased.

A few days later, her father had happily given the news of Kuranosuke's "relocation." She had enough to deal with, and adding a pampered, well-off, lap dog to the mix wasn't going to help at all. After the relationship had ended, she had decided to focus on Kohaku and her job as a receptionist in the company for which her father worked.

Eventually, she had ambitions to leave that job, and hopefully move onto something a little more . . . interesting, such as event planning. She remembered confiding to Miroku over many a morning tea about how she would like to be counted on to make moments memorable.

"_Like a wedding?" _he'd asked.

She wrapped a sea-green towel around her body and stepped into their bedroom - her bedroom - to pull fresh clothing from the dresser.

All clothes were to come from the dresser, be hung in the closet, or over a chair. That was the unspoken rule.Somehow, she had convinced herself it had nothing to do with breathless sighs and impatient hands that pulled buttons apart, opened shirts, and pushed skirts to the ground.

She pushed it from her mind that when clothes had littered the room or hung from the bedposts, it had been in a heat of passion and desire that they had been hurriedly discarded and forgotten.

It had nothing to do with the times when the next morning he would spend a good twenty minutes looking for his pants. And absolutely no relation to the knowing smiles and subtle winks across the dinner table, and her foot traveling up the length of his leg under it, oblivious to Kohaku as he ate his meal.

The stark cleanliness of the room attested to Sango's growing preoccupation with regaining control. From the moment he had left, her bedroom and the house became a model of the clean slate she wished to start out on.

But there was always something, may it be his aftershave still on the bathroom counter or how she had put out two towels on the rack, that were the marks that for any number of reasons, would not erase.

Once clothed in comfortable 'house wear' she sighed and sat down at her desk, resuming what she had been doing since late last night: a little packing of her own.

Throughout the course of their relationship, they enjoyed taking pictures, abusing the one hour wait system available at the developing center, aside from making home videos. However, they had never took the time to put the photos in albums, and instead they collected on top of the vanity, along with a few used film canisters, until Sango had gathered them onto the desk to put them away, as she did now.

There were so many pictures, hundreds even. One - or five - for every seemingly insignificant moment in their time together.

One by one, she picked them up, reading the dates and captions and then tossing them into an empty box, which was already half-full of letters, clothes, cards; anything of significance.

There were some she recognized, like the one of her and Miroku, respectively outfitted in semi-formal attire. She was smiling, her light blush rivaling the red of her dress clearly visible on the glossy five by seven, and he was grinning, as usual. The caption read, "_Sango and I after Kohaku convinced her to let me pamper her with expensive dinner_."

"_At Sumida River for the Grand Fireworks Display_," the next one read, flipping the picture over. She was wearing a pink and black summer yukata. She remembered asking Kagome's mother a favor in help her tie the sash properly. In the picture, she was glowing, even beaming, as the fireworks flashed overhead.

Both collections went into a manila envelope and into the box.

Then there was a stack she had never seen before, still in the original post-development packaging. Unsticking the flap on the envelope, she lifted the pile from the envelope and slid the first photo out. Strangely, they were all facing in, the white backing facing out.

In the corner on the back a small note had been written in Miroku's handwriting, that simply read, _'when I wake up.'_ Frowning, she turned it over, and her breathing stopped momentarily.

She had never seen this before, and hadn't been aware that existed. In fact, she wasn't even aware he had taken it, and for good reason.

The image stared back at her. She was lying on their bed, slightly on her side, in her simple summer night gown, her hair in a loose braid to prevent overnight tangling. The bedspread was white with printed pink flowers, new ones she had bought while shopping on a day off. Her eyes were closed.

Hurriedly, she picked up the stack from which it had came from, pulling out and turning over every picture, staring emptily at each of them. There were more of her asleep in their bed, as well as on the couch still in her work clothes, and in a room that looked like the one in his apartment.

Finally, there were a few of her lying amongst bubble wrap and styrofoam, captioned _'My first day,'_ and, as it was in every one, she was asleep.

She piled them neatly in a stack and wrapped a rubber band around them, placing them in the box.

Ignoring her heavy heart, she folded the flaps in, and picked up the tape dispenser to seal them. Her hands stopped functioning. She couldn't. She wasn't ready just to seal everything away like this. Instead, she pushed the desk chair over to her closet, stood on it, and tucked the box onto the top shelf.

Collapsing on the bed, she wrapped her arms around herself, in an attempt to quell that queasy feeling growing in her stomach. The linens, the pillows, even the damned bathroom towels; they all still smelled of him. The pictures on the bedside table were facing down, his belongings were mostly gone, but apparently her heart didn't care. She didn't want to forget.

Unable to take it, she grabbed the fabric in her hands and pressed it to her face, rolling onto her side to rest her head on his pillow. They were blue, because it was his turn to make the beds this month. This month...a few weeks ago, just another May where he would make their bed. When time hadn't yet become a digital clock after a power surge; blinking and still.

She lay there, silently, not knowing what she was listening for. The phone to ring? The sound of the key turning in the lock, and his deep voice declaring his arrival to whoever was in the house?

Maybe, like when she was lying in bed alone, breathing in the scent of him, she longed for his securing arm around her waist, and the warmth of his body pressed behind her, fitting to the form of her back. She found herself rolling onto her other side and reaching to put her arm over him, to pull his face towards hers and trail her lips down his collarbone, only to have her arm pass through the empty space where he should have been.

The sound of silence was deafening, as it had been every moment she had spent alone on that bed cocooned in sheets. It was ringing from an empty sound that hadn't failed in keeping her awake at night. She needed something, not the creaking of the ceiling fan, nor the whir of the furnace in the basement; but his gentle breathing, ensuring her that he was there.

She lay like this now, until the wind chimes jingled from the porch, and she sat up on the bed, preparing to run down the stairs to greet him with a touch of her lips before he routinely announced his arrival.

But the sound of the simple opening and closing of the door and the footsteps heading straight to the kitchen was the signal of Kohaku entering. They had both become somewhat reserved these past days. In short, even her own brother was fluctuating in avoiding her.

In the end, all they were left with was painful realizations everything was wrong. They had both done wrong, and had danced around their problems long enough. How was it that she could accept all the errors she had made, yet not accept the loss? Was it the paramount high of an insatiable first love that kept her wanting him? Were long nights under the moon of discovering one another over and over again until a golden glaze painted the sky enough to make the hurt melt away with time?

Had he been so much to her that she felt herself regressing without him? Easily, she could say she was a different person now, but could she honestly say that she was a _better_ person?

She used to fear love, and that first time, when he had encircled her with his arms upon his bed, he had told her, "_Sango, we are not invincible." _

Her hands were hesitant over his tan skin, feeling his heat permeating her entire body. "_But weren't we all once? Before we felt lost for the first time?"_

"_Then make this the last time," _he whispered, kissing her softly, burying his face in her hair. He had lied though, because that wouldn't be the last time. He would repeat those words as a parallel once more before he walked out of her life.

Born from their ignorance had been their brilliant dance; a dance where nobody leads at all.

-

_So you buried all your lovers clothes,_

_And burned the letters lovers wrote, _

_But it doesn't make it any better _

_Does it make it any better? _

_And the plaster dented from your fist, _

_In the hall where you had your first kiss,_

_Reminds you that the memories will fade._


	2. Too Late

All previous disclaimers apply.

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_"Okay Kohaku," Miroku called across the field. "Really whip it out this time."_

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_"I'll try," the younger boy called back nervously. Miroku held his arm back as far as he could, and then thrust it forward, the ball sailing in a slight arc towards Kohaku, connecting with the wood of his bat in a crack. _

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_For a moment Kohaku watched the ball rise into the sky, until he lost sight of it in the glare of the sun. Then, he remembered what game they were playing, and began to run around to first base, which was (because there wasn't a baseball diamond at the park) Sango's shoe._

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_Sango smiled from where she watched the two, seated on a large blue blanket in her bare feet (both shoes had become bases). Kohaku was too slow in capitalizing on his would-be home run, and Miroku had playfully tackled him to the ground, knocking off his hat and ruffling his hair._

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_"Ane-ue!" Kohaku whined as his hair started to turn nice and static. He took advantage of Miroku's sudden glance to his sister and pulled on the small tail of hair on the back of his head._

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_"Cut it out the _both_ of you!" Sango laughed from her seated position, hugging her knees and shaking her head, exasperated._

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_Both of the males stopped their roughhousing and looked at her for a brief moment, before turning to one other quickly as if in a football huddle. _

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_"What are you whispering about?" she demanded indignantly, putting amused hands on her hips. _

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_"Nothing," Kohaku said innocently, standing up. _

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_"Miroku. . ." she said warningly. "Your influence is just too much. . ."_

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_"Oh is it?" He winked. "Now, Kohaku."_

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_In a flash, both of them had raced to the blanket and pushed her onto her back, attacking her with a flurry of tickling. _

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_"Nooo!" Sango wailed. "It's not fair, there's two of you!"_

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_"It's a double-team," Kohaku explained, tickling her ribcage. _

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_She valiantly stuck out her tongue at the both of them before curling into a ball and hiding her face to protect vulnerable ticklish areas. _

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_"Now _that's_ not fair," Miroku's amused voice said. _

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_Thinking she had won, she was just about ready to uncurl when instead she felt not a tickling hand, but a groping hand on her bottom. As she stretched out from her fetal position she was winding up to slap him teasingly but he instead placed his hands under her knees and back and lifted her off the ground, the simple pink and white sun dress she wore fluttering around them._

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_"Miroku!" she exclaimed, blushing. "Where did Kohaku - "_

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_"I . . . he decided to go get the ball," he answered with a grin, sitting down on the blanket, settling her in his lap. "And your shoes."_

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_"Did he?" she asked slyly, pushing his shoulders down. _

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_"Uh-huh," he nodded, eyeing the mischievious curve of her smile hopefully. _

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_"And I can't run away onto the street barefoot, right?" _

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_Her head dipped down and she teased his bottom lip, smiling against his mouth. _

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_"Oh no, we wouldn't want that," he sighed as she pulled back, absently twirling her hair around one of his fingers. "But remember that first time when -"_

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_"That doesn't count," she interrupted. "I don't think I would want to try and run away from you again." She kissed him again, for a little longer, enjoying the feeling of his fingers fisting in her hair. "Ever."_

- 

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__**Any Given Someday**

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****Chapter 2: 

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_Too Late_

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__She had no idea why the hell she had agreed to a date. With _him _nonetheless. Somewhere in her mind, she had the irrational idea that if she put him through more hell on a single outing with her than he had ever experienced in the stock market, she would be able to blow him out of the picture. 

Now she was just not in the mood. At first she had been adamant on refusing, and then when he asked her why, she gave him one of the usual excuses which he had shot down by saying she had done that the night, week, month before. Then she said that she didn't want Kohaku alone that night, which was a stupid excuse she knew, since he was already in middle school. Once he said he'd be glad to accommodate her brother, she knew that he was as desperate as she had once only suspected. 

There was a soft knock at the door. "Come in," Sango said to it, staring at the ceiling fan. 

"Ane-ue, Takeda-san called and said he's going to be here in about twenty minutes," Kohaku informed her stiffly. 

"Alright." 

"Do I still have to go?" 

"Yes." 

"Why?"__

__

"Because I want you to." 

"Ane-ue, if you didn't want to go out with him, why didn't you just tell him that?" 

She sat up on their -_ her_ - bed, and stared at him in annoyance. "I thought that I could make this date into a living hell for him so he'd give up." 

He could only shake his head and cross his arms over his chest, leaning into the door frame. 

"Ane-ue, he won't give up. And instead of facing the music, you're just dragging me down with you." 

She rolled over on her side so that she faced away from him . . and towards the empty side of the bed. 

"Besides, what sister brings their younger brother on a date with them?" he continued to rant. 

Rolling another quarter, she was now face down into her pillow. 

"I can stand here and complain all I want Ane-ue, you can't hold your breath forever." He tapped his foot. 

Sango tried not to gasp too loudly as she lifted her head to breathe. "Kohaku," she sighed impatiently. "Just go get ready, unless you're planning to wear your uniform out." 

"Where are we going?" 

"I don't know!" she sniped. "Knowing him, somewhere cheesy and expensive. Wear something decent." 

Her brother didn't answer; he just clicked his tongue and shut the door behind him, almost stomping down the hall towards his room. 

Rolling into her pillow, she groaned, curling into a ball. "This is a big mistake," she muttered into the sheets she was clutching to her nose. "I'm really going nuts." 

She heard the door creak open again and Kohaku sigh and kiss his teeth. "Ane-ue, you do realize he might get here any minute now." 

Her head was under the blankets. "I don't care." 

Kohaku walked over to the bed, sitting down and bouncing a few times. Eventually, he began to bounce with increased vigour. 

"Kohaku. Stop. It." she ordered, shaking with the mattress. 

"Get up then," he challenged, bouncing higher still. "There is no way I am going to take a chance at having to go on a date with that guy alone. Who knows, he might even try it if he thinks he'd get in your good graces." 

She smiled wryly from underneath the linens. 

The bouncing slowed, the creaking of the mattress springs subsiding. "I know it's been hard for you Ane-ue. . .but let's try not to think about it, okay?" 

He reached over and pulled the blanket from her face. "Okay?" he prodded. 

Relaxing onto her back, she crossed her arms behind her head. "I guess," she sighed. 

"Yeah, I'm looking forward to raising some hell too, alright? So get ready." 

Sango huffed in irritation again. "Yuck. Get ready? With what?" 

"Who cares? Are you _trying _to attract him? Look, _I'll_ even pick something out." With that, he walked over to the closet, yanked the door open, reached in with his eyes closed and pulled out the first thing that felt like a dress. 

She stared at him. It was long and shimmering red, with a slit that came up dangerously high. Surely Kohaku remembered it. . . he had photographed her in it before. 

"Heh, sorry," he said sheepishly, stuffing it back between the hangers. "Here, wear this one." He threw an old black basic dress over her stiff form. 

They both looked at each other as the unmistakable sound of wind chimes echoed through the upstairs window. Kohaku rushed towards the door. 

"It's probably him. Throw that on and I'll stall," he instructed. "And maybe start weirding him out too," he added as an afterthought. 

"Just go," Sango said wearily, unzipping the back of the dress. 

"Keep in mind I'm tucking in my shirt for you!" 

He saluted, and closed the door behind him. 

Sango crumpled the dress in her lap and shook her head, the pictures still so visible in her mind. 

-- 

"So. . .Kohaku, you're in middle school right?" 

The boy in question was sitting with one leg across his knee and his hand holding his chin as if he were the distinguished author of an encyclopedia, staring into a corner of the room. 

"Oh, I'm sorry Takeda-san, I was overcome by a sudden intellectual thought. Sometimes that happens when talking to someone of lesser - ah, questionable intelligence. But sometimes it's just a random occurrence," Kohaku explained with a wide grin, gesturing enthusiastically with his hands. 

Kuranosuke raised his eyebrows, resting his chin on his own folded hands. "Understandable. You're a very smart boy, I hear." 

Kohaku exaggerated a sigh. "Smart and misunderstood. All I have ever wanted to do since I was a toddler was fry potatoes. Sadly my sister prevents me from following up on that dream." 

"Fry. . .potatoes. . ." 

"Why yes!" Kohaku perked up. "There's a technique involved, and it's very - " 

"I'm ready, I'm ready!" Sango's voice sailed down the stairs and into the living room. "Sorry for making you wait," she apologized, flustered. "Hopefully Kohaku's been entertaining you?" 

"He has," Kuranosuke assured her, standing up quickly. His gray eyes travelled up and down her figure, but the action didn't make her feel endearingly annoyed, or even attractive. 

When Miroku would look at her, he was capable of making her feel like the only woman in the world. 

Instead, Takeda Kuranosuke was staring at her impertinently, and it made her feel as though she was a specimen being examined under a microscope. 

"Are you ready?" he finally asked, after what seemed like a long while. 

"Yes?" she responded, confused. 

"I don't know. . .Something seems different. . .make-up?" 

Sango scrutinized herself, but everything seemed fine. 

"Oh! I'm not wearing any." 

"Ah," he said, nodding his head. "Why not?" 

Kohaku looked up at him sharply, slight annoyance in his face. "She doesn't need it. Miroku always said that - " 

"Kohaku," she hissed abruptly. Shifting her weight from side to side, the situation had suddenly become quiet uncomfortable. She was taken aback at both Kuranosuke's comments and her brother's behaviour. 

"Well, I don't wear that much to begin with, and I was in a rush," she explained at a reckless pace. "But if you really want me to -" 

"No, no it's okay," he admonished, putting a hand on her shoulder and steering her down the hallway of her house. "Let's just get going shall we?" 

"Where are we going?" Kohaku piped up. 

"Dinner." 

"Figures," he muttered, rolling his eyes in amusement. 

"Ouch! What did you pinch me for!" 

_Raising hell is one thing, Kohaku._ _But this . . . isn't like you._

-- 

"So, how have you been getting along?" Kuranosuke asked cheerfully, all oddness of Kohaku's career plans forgotten, as he made a right turn. 

"Without you around? Fine. Now I'm not so sure." 

Sango twisted in the passenger seat and gave Kohaku another warning look. 

"I'm sorry Takeda-san," she apologized. "He's just, ah - " 

"Oh no, it's fine Sango-san, and do call me Kuranosuke," he said with a casual wave of his hand. "I remember when I was once a fickle teenager myself." 

From her side mirror Sango could see her brother scrunch his nose and mime gagging with his hands around his throat, as the low whirr of the windshield wipers cleared the windshield of the light patter of rain that had begun to fall upon the glass. 

-- 

Dinner was a fairly torrid affair, with forced conversations and even more forced laughs as she attempted to keep Kuranosuke in a decent mood, whilst getting her message across. Unfortunately, despite being a successful businessman and an aspiring heir to a company it didn't hide the fact that he was dense when it concerned these matters. 

Continuing with his gimmick, Kohaku had ordered the most expensive item on the menu, winking at her from behind it as he did so. Of course, ' money was no object,' as the man so liked to remind her, oh - every ten minutes or so. 

She let him recommend her a meal, after a vigorous question and answer period regarding her allergies and previous experiences with 'exotic foods.' 

The restaurant was an elegant and classy one, and so formal that Sango was afraid she would be kicked out for not having paid over forty thousand yen for her attire. The multitude of forks and knives and other various utensils littered all over her place setting somewhat overwhelmed her, and it was nearly three hours later that she found herself picking at her dessert with the proper 'dessert spoon' at the end of the night. 

"Well, I think that we learned quite a lot about each other," her 'date' decided, folding up his napkin neatly and placing it atop his plate. 

"Likewise," quipped her brother, sliding Sango's unfinished dessert across the table. 

Kuranosuke turned his attention towards her. "Sango-san, what about you? Did you enjoy yourself?" 

She looked up from where she was mindlessly drumming her fingernails across the fine tablecloth. 

"Hmm? Oh, of course I did," she said with a phony smile. "Dinner was wonderful." 

"A successful outing, I must conclude," he exclaimed jovially, standing up and shrugging his coat on after sending the waiter away with the bill. Damn, if he looked anymore like a cartoon villain satisfied with his plan going into action without a hitch, she'd kick herself. 

-- 

Kohaku had slumped up the porch steps and into the house, leaving Sango to fend for herself, obviously worn out from the evening. After all, giving someone a nonstop hard time wasn't all that easy. 

_Here it comes,_ Sango thought as he opened his mouth. _All I know is that he'd better not try - _

"Did you hear me Sango?" his slightly concerned voice startled her. She turned her chin up to him. 

"I asked if you would like to come out with me again, but this time, just you and I," he said warmly, his eyes shining with optimism. 

Her gaze slowly travelled around the rim of her eye and down to the slightly worn boards of the porch. The wind chime gently jingled above them. 

". . .Sure," she heard her own voice say. _But just because I want to be polite! _

"If I can fit it into my schedule." 

"That's great!" he said enthusiastically, twitching a little as though he wanted to jump and click his heels. "I always have a good time with you Sango-san." 

"Mmm," she mumbled absently, tapping the toes of her shoes against the ground. Something warm rested on her shoulder. His hand. It felt like an octopus tentacle on a cutting board, ready to be cleaved should it twitch. 

Disgusting, he was leaning closer already. _It was one date damn it. My younger brother even tagged along! _Wincing, she turned her head to the side and his lips landed on her cheek. 

He pulled back, blinking a few times. His shoulders drooped slightly; his entire posture seemed to slacken. "Good night," he said, bowing. "I'll be sure to call you." 

"I'll be sure to pick up!" she replied with a wave and a smile, before turning to the door and rolling her eyes. _My answering machine will be waiting, that's for sure._

__

"Kohaku, go upstairs and change into your pajamas," she ordered, leaving her shoes in a pile in front of the door. He was already fast asleep on the couch, his arms and legs sprawling and his tie loosened. 

"Or not," she sighed to herself, dragging her feet up the stairs. Nudging the door open with her knee, she unzipped the back of the dress and let it slide to the ground, kicking it aside. 

_Clothes on the floor. _

Instantly, she bent and picked it up, folding it neatly and hanging it over the back of a chair. She rushed to the bathroom, leaning over the sink and letting the faucet run cold water. Her cupped hands gathered some of the cool liquid, and she threw it upon her face, taking a shuddering long breath from the sudden chill. 

She wiped her face off quickly, completing the rest of her bathroom duties in half an hour, drawing each task out slowly. When she glanced at the clock on the bedside, she was greeted with a dim "11:30 PM." 

_Eleven-thirty . . . Miroku should be home by now._

Still clothed only in her undergarments, her bare feet cool against the carpet as she found herself cradling the phone against her shoulder, an extended finger pressing the sequence of numbers she'd had memorized for nearly the past year, even though she hadn't had to dial them in days. 

"Hello?" The voice was tired and sounded groggy, as though waking up from sleep. 

"Hello? This is Miroku speaking. Who's there?" He said again, a bit impatient. 

She let a whisper of his name escape her throat, as involuntary as a hiccup. 

There was silence at the other end. 

"Sango? Sango, is that you?" 

Tears were burning at the back of her eyes but she didn't really notice. "Miroku?" she choked out again. 

"Sango! Sango, what - " 

A third voice. A high, feminine voice. "Who is that Miroku? Is that her?" 

Her heart skipped a beat as she grabbed the left side of her chest that contained it. _There was a woman at his place, with him._ Anger and jealously washed over her as waves stirring an ocean of confusion. 

She hoped all that he heard was the steady, unnerving dial tone as her whitened fist slammed the receiver back into the cradle, still gripping it tightly as she took deep, calming breaths. 

Grabbing the entire phone with both hands, she yanked it from its place, the cord ripping from the wall, and flung it across the room, where it thudded a few times across the carpet, stopping once it collided soundly against the door. 

Her shoulders shook with spasms of emotion, her fingers curled around the edges of the mattress. Her upper lip twisted bitterly. Now wasn't she the hypocrite. Why was she so upset? Wasn't she just on a date as well? 

_No_, she told herself, her mouth contorting into a frown once again. _I had a horrible time on that date. I had a horrible time because I wanted to. I didn't want to have a good time with another man. That's what I wanted. He wasn't in my house. I didn't let him anywhere near my room._

__

__The second extension was ringing downstairs, and right now, she didn't care if it was Miroku, her boss, hell, the government with an oversized cheque. Right now, she just wanted to fall to the bed, surrounded by crumpled royal blue sheets and the sounds of solitude. 

As she drifted asleep, the blue linens smooth and slightly cool against her exposed skin, the brush of wind creeping through the window screens to drift across her face, her hand reached up unconsciously to trace at the trails that hot tears once drew from the corner of her eye to the side of her face. 

And maybe, just maybe, she heard the phone stop ringing. 

- 

_I'm waiting for blood __to flow to my fingers _

_I'll be all right when my hands get warm. _

_Ignoring the phone, __I'd rather say nothing, _

_I'd rather you never heard my voice. _

__

_You're calling too late, _

_Too late to be gracious. _

_And you do not warrant long good-byes. _

_You're calling too late, _

_You're calling too late._


	3. Here Is Gone

_All previous disclaimers apply. Don't own anything of Dashboard Confessional._

Missed an A/N last chapter (though I'm not sure it really matters) but thank you for the positive response so far. So here's where I stop being so vague about things. Well, less vague.

Hoped to answer some questions so . . . the woman on the phone wasn't his long lost sister, and it's not Koharu (though I set her up with Kuranosuke on another unpublished occasion. Pure evil) and yes, I enjoy torturing you.

Note: Kirisame is a word that I _think_ means foggy/misty rain. Rain is my best friend in this story.

Will not delay, so everyone, remember to thank Katrina5 inspiring this crack - umm, chapter and story. Feedback appreciated.

-

* * *

_-_

_Sango sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, pouring over employee memos and sticky notes. A large chart lay in the center of it all, where she was pencilling in names for the schedule of 'big business evaluations' next week._

__

_"Unbelievable," she murmured, changing Mr. Kiyama's evaluation period from ten AM to two PM in accordance with his death threat - no, memo._

__

_Uneven footsteps sounded down the stairs but Sango didn't look up. They continued into the living room where the young woman struggled with the load of paperwork._

__

_The sound of someone slumping against the wall in a slight thud caused her to look up from the schedule. _

__

_"Kohaku?" she asked in worry. "What's wrong?"_

__

_"It's alright ane-ue, I don't want to bother you. It's just that," he took a steadying breath, "I think we're out of aspirin."_

__

_She stood up and rushed over to him, the meeting schedule forgotten, and guided him towards the couch. Placing a hand under his bangs, she winced. The warmth beneath her hand was surely greater than normal._

__

_Bustling about the kitchen, she quickly held a small towel underneath a stream of cold water and wrung it out before she laid it against his forehead. Looking around frantically, she grabbed a blanket out of the linen closet and threw it over his body, which was now shivering._

__

_"Ane-ue!" he croaked. "Go do your work. You just got this job!"_

__

_"That's not important right now," she dissuaded, now throwing on her raincoat. "Father pulled some strings for me anyway." _

__

_The rain pounding on the roof did nothing to deter her. "I'm going to run out and get you some medicine, okay?" _

__

_"In this rain? No!" he tried to protest. "And you lent the car to Kagome-san tonight!"_

__

_"I'll take the metro," she assured him. "It will be a little longer because of that...but hold on, okay? For me?" she added in an encouraging voice. '_After all, isn't it my fault we don't have any medicine for you?' 

__

_He sighed and shook his head, coughing a little. "Don't take too long," he tried to lecture her. "I'll get worried."_

__

_She rubbed his shoulders affectionately and jogged down the foyer, pulling on her shoes. _

__

_-_

__

_'Why, why, _why_ did I have to lend Kagome-chan the car tonight?' Sango complained, her hair now hanging in wet rivulets across her face. The rain was heavier than she had anticipated, almost stinging if she lifted her face directly to the sky. Her coat wasn't doing that much of a good job either; the zipper was stuck and it wouldn't close, exposing her entire front to the torrential outpour._

__

_Her socks and pants absorbed the water like a sponge as she pounded through the puddles, intent on getting to the small drugstore outside the large mall. It was just nearing closing hours, and Sango only cared about getting through those doors before they closed._

__

_She breathed a sigh of relief as she trailed wet footprints into the store, not bothering to wipe off her shoes, which wouldn't have helped matters anyway. Instead, she squeaked down the aisles, looking for the fever medicine section, which, in a calmer situation, would probably have been ten times easier to locate._

__

_"Relief of fevers!" she said aloud in triumph, not that there were many people in the store to hear her. Shoving the bottle in her pocket, she looked around more, trying to see if there would be anything else she'd need. _

__

Thermometer,_' she decided, plucking it off of the metal piece from which it hung. '_And sinus and cough tablets, just in case. This is so hard without mother! 

__

_Cradling the medications in her arms, her shoes squeaked loudly as she ran towards the cash register, slightly startling the half-asleep employee waiting there._

__

_Sango felt like rapping her fists along the counter to get the teenager there to quicken the pace in scanning, but settled for twitching in impatience instead._

__

_"Here you go," the cashier yawned. "Enjoy."_

__

_With a polite nod Sango hurried towards the door, unaware of anything else other than the fact that about forty minutes had passed and Kohaku, who was home all alone, was running a high fever._

__

_The familiar pounding of the rain had already begun to grace her head when a loud voice stopped her._

__

_"Excuse me miss."_

__

_Fisting her hands, she whirled around, spraying the offender with a string of water droplets. "Yes?" she said in as courteous a voice as she could muster._

__

_"Step back into the store for a minute, please."_

__

_"I'm sorry, but I have a really important matter to attend to," she quipped. "What is the problem?"_

__

_"Could you empty your pockets for me please?" _

__

_She scrutinized him more closely. He was tall, wearing a white dress shirt and black pants, a radio connected to his belt, and the outline of a box visible in his chest pocket. If she wasn't so frustrated, she probably would have noticed the slight look of amusement on his face._

__

_Quickly, she ran her hands up and down her sides, the bag of medicine bouncing along the joint of her elbow. "I don't have anything! Please, I didn't steal anything!" She put her hands over her face, the roots of a headache already forming. Seriously contemplating just running away from him, she took a step back and he spoke again._

__

_"I'm going to have to ask you to stand with your hands against the wall."_

__

_A spray of water moistened the hem of his pants as she stomped her foot angrily, walking over to the wall and slamming her palms against it. Her shoulders moved up and down as she breathed heavily, trying to calm herself. Kohaku could be - _

__

_She gasped, momentarily forgetting where she was. His hands, they were on her shoulders, holding them in a soft grip. From there, they trailed down her arms, squeezing every now and then. They returned to her shoulder blades, resting for a moment, before continuing down her sides and across her back. _

__

_Her jacket and her clothes were soaked, and she was grateful that her front faced away from him, now that she realized she was in a white shirt._

__

_Her breaths unconsciously steadied themselves, trying to keep her body from shuddering too much under his touch; one that seemed to warm every area of moist skin through her wet clothing._

__

_"Stop it," she said in a small voice. "That isn't allowed."_

__

_"What isn't allowed?" the guard asked nonchalantly. "I have reason to suspect you, and so I'm searching you."_

__

__'You can't touch me...like that,'_ her mind was screaming at him as his hands sailed dangerously low, squeezing her hips. Then . . . her bottom . . ._

__

_She let out a noise of discontent, twisting around and slapping him across the face. "That was not a search, you ... you perverted freak!"_

__

_His head was down, and he was holding his cheek where she'd hit him. As for her, her breathing was loud and angry again, her hand slightly stinging. _

__

_The falling of the rain seemed to grow louder as he lifted his face, surprising her with the determined smile on his mouth._

__

_"Please forgive me," he said casually. "It's not often someone as beautiful as you shoplifts."_

__

_Taking advantage of her moment of stunned silence, he suddenly lunged forward, reaching into the pocket of her pants, and she flinched away instantly, tripping backwards into a puddle._

__

_"You forgot to pay for this," he said with a shrug, handing her the first bottle of syrup she had picked up. "Seems a careless employee forgot to tag it."_

__

_Her hands were fists at her sides again, shaking, her body, shivering, from frustration and from cold, as she sat in the shallow water. _

__

_She stared at where he had dropped it, in her soaked lap, unable to think straight. Tears began to fall from her face to the wet cobblestone, indistinguishable from the rain water._

__

_And she was crying, silently and angrily, angry that her father was never at home, angry that she had to take on so much responsibility so fast, angry that she didn't know what to do because Kohaku was sick, and her mother was always the one who knew what to do, and angry that she was wet, dirty, and sitting in a puddle crying pathetically because she had made a fool of herself in front of a perverted security guard who was probably staring at her bra through her white shirt._

__

_"Come on," she heard his voice say gently, different than before. "You'll get sick."_

__

_"Don't touch me," she sniffed. "I don't care."_

__

_He placed his hands under her arms and lifted her to her feet, and she let him. He probably wanted her to come inside so he could give her the fine, and turn her in. It was only fair._

__

_"Hey Miroku," an elderly man wearing a navy jump suit called from where he was mopping the floor, more specifically, her trail around the store. "What's going on?"_

__

_"Not much," the security guard called back, and she looked up at him, confused. "Just a customer who's a little lost."_

__

_The janitor chuckled as he cleaned the floor, still mottled with dirty water. "I'm sure. And isn't this Inuyasha's shift? The young man who once got suspended for manhandling the shoplifters?"_

__

_"Said he had a hot date tonight. Naturally, since that never happens, I covered for him."_

__

_"Miroku," Sango said under her breath, unsure of why. _

__

_"That's my name," he smiled, turning back to her as he draped something warm around her shoulders. "You can borrow my jacket," he offered, "Yours seems to be, ah - defective." _

__

_"I . . . I'm sorry," she mumbled with her head down. _

__

_"For what? Slapping me? Miss, you had every right to."_

__

_"No, not for that. That was indeed perverted," she said with a small glare. "But for not listening . . . I'll pay the fine, whatever it is."_

__

_"I'm not going to report you."_

__

_"Why?"_

__

_"It was medicinal syrup. Tell me why you braved the horrible Tokyo rainy season, on foot, to get here to buy medicine."_

__

_"My brother...he's sick with a fever and I left him alone to buy medication . . . We didn't have any and I'm supposed to take care of him and - "_

__

_She stopped. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling."_

__

_"Are you going to walk back?" he asked sharply._

__

_"I'm going to take the subway or the monorail."_

__

_"I'm sorry, I won't allow it." _

__

_He reached for the radio at his waist and spoke into it. "Can I have a cab sent to the East Entrance please? Thanks."_

__

_"A taxi? But I don't have enough money left."_

__

_"I would drive you, but I don't want you to fear for your well-being. You've got wits, looks, passion and damn, you've got strength, " he paused with a flourish. "But are you brave enough to leave with me tonight?" _

__

_The headlights of the taxi shined through the doors, momentarily blinding them as it pulled up beside the curb. "Come on, let's go," he said to her, guiding her outside and lifting his jacket above her head._

__

_She was silent as he placed a few notes between her cold hands, and instructed the driver to take her wherever she asked._

__

_As the car turned out of the parking lot, she found herself looking through the back window of the taxi and watching him as he stood on the curb, briefly illuminated by a flash of lighting as the rain pelted down on his shoulders. _

- 

__

__

__

__**Any Given Someday**

__

__Chapter Three: 

_Here Is Gone_

- 

__

__

__Paranoia. It was like everyone was out to get her. _Everyone_. 

She had slept in that morning despite having had ample rest since the trying events of the date Friday night, and had now set about bustling around her room trying to zip up the back of her grey skirt. After winning that battle, she tumbled down the stairs, matching blazer over her shoulder, yelling for Kohaku to get ready. 

Amusedly, he strolled into the hallway, holding his cup of tea and watching as his sister gathered up her paperwork and tried to simultaneously stuff it in her bag as fast as possible, yet avoid creasing any of them. 

"What are you laughing at?" she demanded, closing her bag and snapping it up quickly. 

"Nothing much." He stifled a yawn, picking up his own bag. "I'll wait in the car," he said with a shrug, putting on his shoes and walking out the door. 

With a huff, she slipped on her pumps and plucked her keys off of the hook on the wall. She then snatched up her black umbrella from where it leaned over an old pair of Kohaku's sneakers on the shoe rack, before locking the door behind her and driving Kohaku to school. 

_"And it looks like there will be rain showers sometime this late afternoon. The rainy season is well on its way."_

__

__"Did you bring your umbrella Kohaku?" Sango inquired, guiding the car along the road. 

"It didn't say it'd rain that hard, did it? If anything, I can ask someone for a ride. If worse comes to worst, I'll take the metro, which isn't that bad," he said whilst rapping on the dashboard to an impromptu tune. 

"Here." She reached into the back seat and felt around for the firm nylon of her umbrella, thrusting it at him. "Take mine." 

"And you?" he asked. 

"I have a car silly," she informed him. "See you later." 

He waved quickly before turning and walking towards the gates, as Sango made a wide turn onto the highway to head downtown. 

A gracious, yet mind-numbing hour in traffic later, she waltzed through the main doors, greeted with a light gust of climate control air conditioning, opting to throw on her blazer once she was settled behind the front desk. 

"Good morning Omura-san!" she greeted the heavyset guard, pausing at his post at a small desk just to the right of the entrance doors. 

"How are you today Kirisame-san?" he asked, taking a sip from his morning coffee. 

"Oh, the same," she said with a wave of her hand. "Another Monday for me." 

"Not me," he said with a toothy grin. "Himiko is due any time this week, I'm going absolutely crazy waiting!" He patted his cellular phone with a large hand. "As soon as this goes off, I'm out of here and straight to the maternity ward." 

She clasped her hands in enthusiasm. "Congratulations! I'm sure you'll be a great father. Do tell me if it's a girl or a boy?" 

He saluted, tapping the brim of his cap twice. 

Sango strode behind the wide cherry wood desk and sat down heavily in her swivelling chair, unloading her stack of papers and keying in her password on the awaiting computer sitting to her left. 

As she went over the list of scheduled visitors for the day and prepared their access control passes, she heard the familiar click of heels on marble as a young, dark-haired woman walked cheerfully toward her, just having received the news from the father-to-be patrolling the door. 

"Sango-chan, they mixed-up the mail again," she said brightly, dropping another stack of parcels and envelopes onto the desk. 

"Why thank you Kagome-chan," Sango said with feigned enthusiasm, beginning to gather them into a neat pile. 

"You're welcome!" the other female beamed as she prepared to make her way towards the exit that connected Sango's building with the one beside it. "It was my turn anyway. They always mess up the post." 

Shaking her head, the receptionist had just started to sift through the sudden influx of mail that had found its way onto her desk when the phone rang. 

"Good morning, you have reached the offices of Pacific Overseas Limited, Sango speaking. How may I help you?" she chirped, in what she had dubbed her cheery 'my-life-depends-on-helping-you' voice. 

"Someone sounds incredibly happy," her father's voice echoed out of the receiver in an amused tone. 

"Father?" Sango exclaimed in disbelief, looking around to see if anyone had heard her outburst. 

Fortunately, she was a few minutes early, and only a few employees were approaching to have their ID's checked. She craned her neck to look at Mr. Omura, whose duties included ID clearance, but the line of arriving workers streamed by him as he chattered on his cell phone excitedly. 

"I just wanted to check how my daughter is doing this fine day. Did you have a good weekend?" 

"Father," she said in an impatient voice, ushering past workers as they waved their identification tags in front of her face. "Can't this conversation wait until I, well, get home maybe?" 

He remained unfazed. "Have any dates lately?" 

She let out a small indignant cry. "Father. I don't know what _it is _with you! For your information, as if you didn't already know, I went on a date with Takeda, ate for free, and went home. The end." 

"You're lying. What _really_ happened?" 

"Nothing. Happened." 

"Also, does Kohaku always accompany you on dates?" 

She could practically _imagine_, in frightening accuracy, the look on his face as he asked her that. 

"For someone who claims to be a busy businessman, you sure invest a lot of time in these matters. How about you put some of that extra energy into helping me pay for an air purifier? Everyone here at work is positively raving about them!" 

"Sango," he said, somewhat sternly. "Please not the sarcasm. They're not that great." 

"I'm sorry father, I'm getting another call. You can either wait until my lunch break, let me put you on hold and listen to some horrible music, or call back when I get home to harass me again." 

"Well, I have a lunch meeting myself but . . . never mind. Love you." 

"Love you too." 

"Wait, one more thing!" 

"Yes?" 

"I will not have my son grow up to work in the fast food industry, no matter how promising he deems it." 

"_Bye_ father," she sighed in amusement, however, she was still annoyed. 

With a victorious punch of a button, she disconnected the call, transferring lines and reciting her most oft-repeated line of the day. 

-- 

Sango was walking through the doors returning from her luncheon with Kagome when she noticed the security desk was empty. 

"Oh! Do you think Mr. Omura's wife has gone into labour?" Kagome exclaimed excitedly. 

"He's been at this post as long as I can remember, so I see no reason why he would leave it now unless his wife was giving birth," she replied with a small smile. "And this morning he was too distracted to do the ID clearances." 

"I'm sure you handled it fine," Kagome praised. "I hope everything works out for him," she added as she turned to leave through the side doors. "See you later!" 

Sango waved, plopping herself down into her own seat. There was a nice, hefty stack of papers sitting on top of the desk in front of her that she was quite sure hadn't been there before. 

A small square sticky note sitting on the topmost sheet read, "_Miss Kirisame, please send out these faxes before you leave today."_

__

__"Before I leave today?" Sango asked incredulously. "Then I should have started this morning!" 

Grumbling to herself, she started dividing the stacks into smaller, more manageable piles, looking so concentrated in her task that she startled an employee strolling past her desk to the elevator. 

"I have to clear your ID," she said, not looking up from her work. 

"I - I had it cleared at the door," the young woman, whom Sango assumed was a secretary for one of the other floors, explained. 

"Oh really?" Sango asked, pushing the stack she was working on to the side and swivelling her chair around. "By who?" 

"There's a guard sitting there." 

Curious, she looked towards the entrance where there indeed was a figure leaning over the desk, taller and definitely lean enough that it was safe to say that it wasn't Mr. Omura. 

"I see..." she said slowly. "Is he a replacement?" 

"Yeah," the woman shrugged, swinging her briefcase. "I guess. So am I cleared?" 

"Oh yes, yes, go ahead, " Sango rattled off, gesturing towards the elevator. 

Taking a deep breath and steadying her shoulders, she turned back to her computer and stack of faxes, only to see another person standing in front of her desk expectantly. 

Sensing from the power suit, she guessed that this was probably some big executive coming to do business with the company, and in accordance with what her father had advised her, plastered a pleasant smile on her face and greeted him politely. 

"Hello, what can I do for you today?" 

"I'm here for a board meeting," the man said, sliding a note and identification across to her. 

Bringing up her schedule on the screen, she paged the office upstairs and announced his arrival. 

"They're expecting you, I will issue you a visitor pass and an access control card and - " 

Something caught her sight just again, the replacement standing at the security desk. 

The man snapped his fingers. "Excuse me?" 

Sango shook her head, the bun at the base of her neck wiggling with her. "I'm sorry, here you go," she said, tearing her eyes away from the doorway and handing the visitor the card and pass. "Have a good day!" she tried to redeem herself. 

He pinned the visitor pass to his belt. "Sure...you too," he said, giving her an odd look and entering the elevator. 

_'It couldn't be._' 

Her body suddenly refused to move and she stood there stiffly, staring across the shining marble floor to the desk where _he _stood. Sometime after that, her mind processed that he was looking back at her. The main entrance hall suddenly seemed extremely quiet. 

_'The faxes, the faxes,'_ she remembered, falling into her seat and grabbing one of the stacks of paper, rolling her chair over to the fax machine. 

She had sent about two when she found herself peeking over the edge of the desk again. '_I'm just making sure it's him'_, she told herself. Luckily, he was now idly leafing through a magazine to pass the time. 

The phone rang again, and her spying session was interrupted. Trying her best to calm down, she switched to her cheery voice as she answered the phone. 

-- 

"Bye Kirisame-san!" another employee waved as she too, left work. Sango nodded and smiled, before turning back to the fax machine with a frown as she continued to robotically punch the numbers and feed the paper into the machine. 

The faxes were the only thing left. Business hours were over, and all the phone calls were now being handled by the overnight answering machine. The only thing that kept her from picking up her bag and leaving was the stack of faxes that had to be sent "before she left today." 

Blinking some life back into her eyes, she sneaked a glance towards the main entrance. Sure enough, _he_ was still sitting there, his feet propped on the desk. Was the front desk far enough away from him that he couldn't recognize her? 

Wait, that wouldn't work, she realized. He knew she worked here. 

Feeding another fax into the slot, she punched in another number. The fax machine gave off a low hum and blinked as the paper was pulled into it. 

Maybe if she worked long enough he would leave. After all, wasn't this overtime for him? Unless he was going to be working all night . . . but that didn't make sense, they had never needed an overnight guard at the door before. She knew there was one that came in to sit in the control room and watch the cameras, but that was all. 

As she reached for the next fax she realized the pile was growing thinner. Soon she would have to pack up and leave . . . through the main doors. 

Even though she really didn't want to have to endure an extremely awkward moment, she knew if she wanted to get home, there would have to be a small sacrifice made. 

The last fax rolled out of the machine and she powered it down, along with the computer and the photocopier. 

She cursed the heels of her shoes and the marble floor as each step she took echoed across the entire hall. He was sitting there, leaning back in the chair, and his eyes were closed. Some security guard. 

His eyes were closed? Wait, that was good news! She'd be able to leave, and maybe she'd let the door creak just loudly enough so that if he was supposed to leave as well, he'd be able to on time. 

With a tiny bit of increased confidence, she clicked steadily towards the exit, the steady patter of the rain showers promised by the radio this morning becoming louder as she approached. 

She was almost there, a few more steps and she could push that door, let it swing open and she could be on her way - 

"Excuse me miss." 

His eyes weren't closed any more. He was standing, she knew it, but she could tell even if she wasn't facing him. Her back was practically on fire from what she knew was his penetrating stare. 

"Yes?" she inquired, meaning for her voice to sound rude and cold, instead sounding like she was out of breath. 

"Are you sure you want to go out there?" His voice was quiet and low, but with no one around but them, it seemed so loud. 

"Why wouldn't I?" she said in a strained voice, her hands fisting. "I'm going to my car." 

"Well, if -" 

"Why are you even here anyway?" she snapped. "You know I work here!" 

He was calm at her outburst. "I was called in. The normal guard had an emergency, I believe. You know me, I always try to help out." 

"I see." She muffled a sniff with her hand. 

"Besides . . . how could I pass up a chance to see you again?" 

There was a low echo in the entrance hall as her bag slipped from her fingers and fell to the wet marble. 

"Stop," she said in a low voice that came from deep within her throat. "Stop." 

"Don't you remember me?" She couldn't decipher if he sounded hurt or not. Maybe he was just toying with her. That's what she was right? Something fun for him to toy with. 

_Miroku_. _How can I forget?_

"Sango." He was coming closer now. "At least . . . take this." 

She turned around slowly, looking down, away from his face, because she refused to meet his eyes, and to his outstretched hand. 

He was offering her an umbrella. 

Hesitantly her hand reached towards his, her fingertips brushing his wrist as they curled around the nylon. 

Abruptly, she drove her hand down, startling him. The umbrella fell from his grasp, hitting the ground with a clatter. 

She kept her head down, the shadows of her bangs obscuring her face. "I do know you," she whispered harshly, letting go of his wrist as she turned. She hurriedly picked up her bag as she pushed through the revolving door, raindrops splattering her clothing, her hair unravelling from its neat knot, and the water splashing about her heels as she struggled not to fall. 

- 

__

_And I know that you hope for _

_Longer good-byes _

_Embracing for forever _

_And falling in your eyes _

_In your eyes _

_In my eyes_


	4. Take These Chances

**A/N: **I forgot my standard practice of dating and marking chapters. I guess I don't write enough. I'll start next chapter, even though the next four have been written already. Oh well. Let's see, any questions? No. Comments? Yes!

Aamalie, you wag your finger at _me?_ I do nothing _but _fill up your inbox with garbage. FlamingRedFox, I apologize right now. You'll see why. Taishoku Kurayami, no Kohaku this time around, but I love my messed up version of him. Lady Sango 7, hopefully the fluff is enough to balance out the angst ).

Everyone else, thanks alot and you won't find out what happened for a good six chapters. Please stick around, for me?

Finally, fic is for Kat because she's being productive. It's still for her if she wasn't.__

* * *

_-_

_-_

_-_

_"You brought it back?" His voice sounded surprised and slightly pleased. _

__

_She bent her chin down, feeling self-conscious under his gaze. Determinedly, she held out the neatly folded, freshly washed jacket in front of her, willing him to take it._

__

_"Did you happen by here by accident?" he asked curiously, scanning her face. "How did you know I was working?"_

__

_"I - " she sputtered. Truthfully, she was on her way to pick up a prescription and just felt as though she had to bring the jacket with her. "I don't know."_

__

_"I guess the saying is true," he said thoughtfully as he took the clothing from her hands. _

__

_"What saying?"_

__

_"You know, that if you let a hot shoplifter go with something of yours, and they come back to return it, then they're a decent person."_

__

_"I'm not a shoplifter!" she corrected automatically. "But . . . it was nice of you," she said in a rush._

__

_"Pardon me?"_

__

_"I said, it was nice of you," she repeated even more quickly. _

__

_"Can't quite hear you," he teased her. "Maybe if you - "_

__

_His fingers gently lifted her chin, dragging her gaze away from their shoes, and towards his face. "- spoke to me instead of the ground."_

__

_Her cheeks had begun to glow a brilliant shade of pink, and as soon as his fingers left her face it dropped a little. _

__

_"Here, to pay you back," she offered, her hands fumbling to open her purse. "You gave me way too much, I really don't need it - "_

__

_"I refuse to accept any reimbursements," he said airily. "I work, don't I? Not a cushy office job, but hey, I'm making money."_

__

_Disappointed, she dropped her wallet back into her purse, suddenly very aware of the shopping bags she was holding._

__

_"How's your brother?"_

__

_She paused, caught off guard._

__

_"Remember?" he said teasingly. "You came here to get him medicine."_

__

_Flustered, she hurriedly tucked flyaway strands of hair securely behind her ears. "Oh, he's fine. It's just that he had a hard time getting over pneumonia as a child and sometimes I get worried." _

__

_His softened gaze travelled down her arms to the little white paper prescription bag sitting on top of the other items she had purchased. "Didn't get enough last time?" he asked, raising an eyebrow._

__

_Following the direction of his stare, the chagrin returned to her face. "Oh, that?" she gave a nervous laugh. "It's for my brother. This other stuff is for the house, it's been awhile since we moved in and everything's just - sorry, rambling."_

__

_"I don't mind if you ramble," he said casually, giving her a lazy smile. "Your voice is sweet. Honey-like."_

__

__Honey-like? What?__

__

_"So, umm . . . Miroku . . . if I can call you that . . . I should probably, well - leave." Wow, she was ever the conversationalist today._

__

_He nodded for a moment, leaning against the wall behind him. Outside it was slightly humid from light rainfall, yet an uplifting breeze complimented the heat. _

__

_"Your name."_

__

_"Name?" she asked. _

__

_He looked amused again. "You know, what people call you by."_

__

_"At work they call me Kirisame-san, but . . . my first name is Sango."_

__

_A lazy grin spread across his lips. "You paused."_

__

_Now she was flustered. "What do you mean?"_

__

_"You paused before telling me your given name . . . Sango." He emphasized her name with a wink._

__

_"Well - that's because . . . " She put a hand on her hip. "I still remember what you did that night!"_

__

_"Oh? What did I do?"_

__

_"You . . . you _groped_ me!"_

__

_"Oh yeah," he chuckled. "That."_

__

_"It's not funny. How could you forget?" she glared at him, all politeness forgotten. "Just how many innocent women have you groped?" she demanded with narrowed eyes._

__

_"Innocent?" he raised his eyebrows jokingly, scratching the back of his head. "Well, concerning women in general, a fair few, I must say." Her face began to flush in disbelief, but seeing her getting all fired up only made him look happier._

__

_"You do look enchanting when you blush, even if you are because you're getting angry at me," he admitted._

__

_"I'm not angry!" she yelped. "Just... shocked and somewhat disgusted."_

__

_"Hey now," he raised his arms in front of him. "Disgusted is such a _strong_ word."_

__

_"I am," she huffed, crossing her arms, though it was somewhat difficult with her shopping bags in the way. _

__

_"But you can't deny that I'm a pretty nice guy, right?" he pointed out, smiling at her._

__

_"You _act_ like one, but how would I know?" she argued, at that point, forcefully remembering him lifting her from the puddles and letting her off without reporting her._

__

_"I'll prove it."_

__

_In the same manner as he had done a few nights ago, he reached forward and tugged the shopping bags from her arms. _

__

_"Where's your car?" _

__

_"What?" she began to sputter. "Why?"_

__

_"I'm earning my way back into your good merits again," he said teasingly. "So where is it?"_

__

_"But - you..." her arms dropped to her sides. "It's over here."_

__

_He had started to follow her when she whipped around again, her hair flying over her shoulder._

__

_"Aren't you supposed to be working?" she inquired with narrowed eyes._

__

_He shrugged. "Consider me on lunch break."_

__

_Shaking her head, she found herself smiling a little bit. "You're really something else. Say in the time it takes for you to carry these to my car, and walk back, a gang breaks into the drugstore and steals sixty percent of the inventory. Then what would you do?"_

__

_Tipping his chin up thoughtfully, he answered. "I'd blame it on the other guard. He asked me if I wanted to switch posts with him today because no one ever steals from the drugstore and he enjoys manhandling shoppers. He can do that better in the main mall. Or I could say I was on parking lot duty . . . "_

__

_Sango raised her eyebrows as she inserted the key into the car, unlocking the back door. "Interesting."_

__

_"Not really," he disagreed. "It's just standing, sitting, warning, and watching. You're about the most interesting thing I've encountered for the last couple of months . . . at work, that is."_

__

_"That's nice," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. She looked away. _

__

_The free hand at her waist was jerked forward, the warmth from his fingers around it spreading up her arm. The ghost of a shiver coursed over her skin._

__

_"I do hope you'll stop by again soon," he said in an oh-so-persuasive voice. "After all, the shopping - " He leaned down, pressing his lips to the back of her hand. "- is great."_

__

_With that, he laid her hand back at her side, and began to walk back to his post. He turned back and waved. _

__

_She was leaning against the side of her car, unaware of the silly shaky hand motions she was making that was supposed to resemble a wave._

__

_The short time they'd walked, she hadn't said much, but he never seemed uncomfortable. Every time that she would look up to his face, quickly, so that he wouldn't notice, he'd already be looking back at her. _

__

_He'd always be smiling._

- 

__

__

__**Any Given Someday**__

__

__Chapter Four:__

__

_Take These Chances_

- 

__

__

__"He called again last night, ane-ue," Kohaku informed her as he sat down at the table with a glass of orange juice. 

"What'd he say?" 

"He asked if you were available, and I said you were asleep. Then he left his number, and all was well." 

"Did he say he'd call again?" she asked, biting into a slice of toast. 

"Yeah. He probably wants to go out with you sometime." 

"Again?" she complained, groaning. 

He downed the rest of his juice. "I'm not going with you," he snapped as he plunked the cup on the counter. 

She dropped her plate into the sink, running water over it. "I don't plan on going anywhere tonight, dear brother. If he calls again, tell him I'm sick." 

-- 

"Sango-chan, can I -" 

"Borrow my car tonight?"__

__

__Kagome looked sheepish. "Sorry this is such short notice, but it's kind of urgent." 

Sango tapped her pen across the records she was filling in. "Let me guess. Dear Inuyasha wrecked his car again." 

She sighed, propping her elbow on the desk. "I always tell him to keep his temper under control when he's driving. But no, this time he turned around the flip the bird to the car behind him but ended up hitting the car in front of him." 

"Wonderful," Sango commented, leaning back in her chair. 

"He's really been doing better though!" she insisted, her chin bobbing up and down. "It just so happens that he was flipping the bird to Kouga-kun!" 

A knowing smirk darted across her lips. Hey, she couldn't help it. 

"And I'm really sorry for having to ask you on such short notice," Kagome didn't notice as she rambled. "But he didn't tell me until last night!" 

"Kagome-chan," Sango sighed as she propped her elbow on the desk and rested her chin in her palm. "Why is it always you asking to borrow someone's car? Doesn't he have any friends he can borrow a car from?" 

The girl on the other side, holding a small stack of misplaced mail, rolled her eyes. "His pride doesn't allow him. You know . . ." she hesitated. "Miroku . . . he won't allow him," she added quickly after that. 

"Did he ask him?" Sango showed no reaction to the name. 

"Yes, but he said no. Probably because he's afraid of his car being towed or destroyed." She huffed in irritation. "So you understand my dilemma?" 

"Well, when you put it _that_ way," Sango said lazily, swinging the ring of keys around her index finger. "It would be absolutely evil of me not to give you the car." 

Kagome bent over the desk and gave Sango a blank stare. "Not the sarcasm Sango-chan." 

The receptionist swung the keys around her index finger one last time before catching them in her fist and depositing on the desk in front of Kagome. "Granted." 

Her eyes lit up like she was nine years old on her tenth birthday, and she was ecstatic at reaching the coveted land of double digits. 

"Really?" she gasped excitedly. Her hand reached toward the ring of keys but stopped an inch from them. "Really?" she asked again. 

Sango nodded good-naturedly. "It's all yours." 

Kagome's mid-length black hair swished about her shoulders as she twirled in the middle of the foyer. "Thank you Sango-chan," she sang, now swinging the keys around her own finger. "You're the best!" 

Sango's eyes widened as Kagome charged at her, jumping halfway onto the desk so that her legs hung over the edge. Her small hands grabbed the front of Sango's shirt and pulled her forward into a bone-crunching hug. 

"You're welcome, Kagome-chan," Sango choked as she reached to pat her awkwardly on the back. The crook of her neck was fitted to Kagome's shoulder, and even from this distance she could see Miroku looking directly at her friend's backside. 

"Sorry," she apologized, flushing as she released her. "It's just that I'm _always_ borrowing your car. I can't wait until the day I have enough to buy my own, instead of sharing with Souta. I have to do something nice for you one day." 

"You don't have to," Sango said flatly, managing to recover a half-smile. 

"Oh! Here's the mail mix-up today! My first in a string of many nice things I'll be doing for you!" the younger girl chirped, dropping a stack of envelopes and a few parcels atop the records Sango was working on. 

"Thanks." 

Kagome's beaming face seemed to have become permanent. "So do you want me to drive you home tonight?" 

"What time to you get off?" 

"Five. You?" 

"Six." 

The corners of Kagome's lips drooped just a little bit. "How come you get off later than I do? That's not fair!" 

"Life's not fair, Kagome-chan." 

She pouted from the other side of the desk, crossing her arms. "Then how will you get home?" 

Sango was stacking the parcels to the side, intent on filling the records out again. "I'll call a cab," she shrugged. 

Kagome was looking at the keys in the middle of her palm. "You sure?" she asked hesitantly. 

"Yes, I'm sure," Sango said firmly. "Take my damn car and enjoy your date." 

Slowly, the unsure look on Kagome's mouth spread to the full-fledged beam once again. "Well," she said thoughtfully, now digging through her purse. "Here's the money to cover it." A wad of bills fell on the topmost parcel. 

Before Sango could retort, Kagome had already skipped away, the keys clanging together as they hung from her pinkie. 

-- 

The rain had begun to fall, the patter echoing across the hallway in a somewhat hypnotic rhythm. She had just powered down, and was preparing to walk by the security post. 

_I did it this morning, what's stopping me now?_

Oh, right. She had gone into Kagome's building and walked across the adjoining tunnel into hers. 

Quickening her pace, she briskly walked forward until she passed him, his form merely a blur in the corner of her eye. Pressing her palms against the cool glass, the door opened and the droplets softly pelted across her face. Mentally proud of herself, she walked out to the curb until she realized she had lent away her ride home. 

Her frustrated gaze dropped to the ground in front of her feet, fixed upon the steady image of the water as it hit the stone splashed back slightly, forming streams along the gaps between the blocks. 

She could feel it. 

The feeling she got when he would stare at her from behind, be it at her ass, or at her whole body. 

Damn glass doors. 

_So_, she wondered as she felt a faint wetness drip through her hair to her scalp. _Will I turn around and walk in there? Do I have a choice?_

__

__Steeling herself, she kept her head down as she walked stiffly back through the door in which she came, not bothering to wipe the liquid from her brow, instead letting the drops roll over the structures of her face, forming a steady dripping from her chin. 

Why did her desk feel so damn far away? Stepping forward, a question shattered the silence. 

"Back so soon?" his voice echoed around the empty entrance hall. His feet were propped on the desk again. 

She couldn't read his voice, it was too forced, as if he was trying to hold something back; anger, spite, satisfaction, maybe even concern? She couldn't tell. The lights in the complex had already dimmed for the evening, and in addition to his hair hanging low over his eyes, his face was heavily veiled from her. 

"I need to use the phone," she said quietly. 

"Can't hear you too well," that distant voice, so unlike the warm, carefree default, scared her a bit. "Talk to me . . . instead of the ground." 

She tried again, her temper flaring unnecessarily. "Need to use that phone." Her arm swung out automatically, indicating the phone that sat next to his heels. 

"Why?" he threw at her. She convinced herself that she had only heard undertones of embittered mirth as he spoke. 

"I'm calling a cab," she said calmly, refraining from raising her voice. 

"Where's your car?" came his instant reply. His feet fell from the desk to the floor with an echoing thud. 

"Lent it away." 

"Well," he said slowly, twisting the phone cord around his finger. "Well..." 

Impatient and uncomfortable, she dropped her bag. "Well what?" 

His fingers trailed along the smooth plastic of the receiver, and she found herself swallowing, her hand raising to fist at the base of her throat. 

He gripped the receiver tightly, his head bowed and shrouded by shadow. Slowly, he lifted it, a small click reaching her ears as the flat dial tone emanated from the receiver he held in his hands, the only sound between them against the dull patter of the rain. 

The receiver slammed back onto the phone, and she jumped. "I'm afraid I won't allow it," he said quietly, raising his face to look at her. He was smiling. The same warm, mischievous smile she remembered. . . or was it? 

"W- What do you mean, 'you won't allow it?' Who the hell do you think you are?" Sango exploded, her hands fisting at her sides. 

"Don't waste your time," Miroku fired back, standing up and leaning over the desk, looking at her in a way she couldn't place. 

"How do you expect me to get home?" she argued, her arms now gesturing wildly. "What is it to you if I take a damn taxi?" 

"I'll drive you." 

Silence. 

"No," she whispered, taking an inadvertent step backwards. "No, no," she repeated in breathless gasps, until her back bumped against one of the columns that marked the entrances. 

"What's so different? You said you didn't want things to change between us," he said, stepping around the desk and pulling on his coat. 

Oh, how she hated his damn ambiguous tones, unreadable expressions, the veiled meanings behind his words. She found her body frozen against that pillar, helplessly watching as he approached in the dim light. 

"I said I didn't want things to change, but then you left - " she found herself saying, her throat suddenly raspy and dry. 

Along the way, he picked up her fallen bag, and reached to take her wrist . . . 

"You never said don't go." 

She didn't know why she did it, all that she knew was that her hand had suddenly stopped gripping the edge of the pillar, and instead had swung outward and struck him across the face. 

His head was turned to the side, his hand holding his surely stinging cheek. 

Her back slid down the pillar until she hit the ground, and she didn't want to look at him anymore. She bent her knees to her chest and covered her face with her hands, breathing long and deep. Ignoring the shifting of the contents in her bag as it was placed beside her, she drowning out the sound of him calling for a cab, letting the pulse of the rain on glass be her comfort. 

-- 

When she returned home that evening, she shuffled up the stairs slowly. There was light sifting across the hardwood from the crack beneath Kohaku's door. She closed the door to her own room behind her, and leaned against it, taking deep breaths and looking up to see the bed before her, the focal point of her gaze. 

The bed was wide, queen sized, if she remembered correctly. As of now it was simply a place to sleep, and rest. It was no longer a place to be pampered, loved, pleasured. The only arms that held her now were her own. 

Her nails were in danger of being detached from her skin as she tore at the sheets, ripping them from the bed, jostling the mattress. The bedside table shook with her displaced energy; the picture frames, face down, inches from falling to the ground. 

As of now, she hated him, she hated everything about him, she cursed his existence . . . yet she didn't at the same time. She couldn't. 

The first button on her shirt had popped off, the second one dangerously close, and the seam along the lining of her skirt was significantly torn. It was then, as she collapsed on the naked mattress, eyes glazed and unfeeling, that she knew she still loved him. 

She hated him. 

And she loved him. 

The sheets were all over the floor. 

-- 

__

_And you'll be sorry_

_Isn't that what they'll say?_

_Don't follow your heart, _

_It just seems to get in your way._


	5. Now Hold Me Back

_Things I don't own: Inuyasha, Dashboard Confessional._

**A/N:** So here we are again. Today's flashback has a little more . . . questionable implications. Time for feedback!

**Sango's Counterpart, **that's the overstatement of the year. I have much to improve on before I consider stuff remotely readable. But thanks alot for all the endless compliments. **Starzski**, it makes me really happy when people think I'm handling the AU setting properly. Thank you! **Aamalie, **I think I spoil you. **Lady Sango 7 **& **Sango0808, **thanks, your reviews always get me in a good mood.** FlamingRedFox, **yes I do love the rain. It never makes me sick.

Thank you everyone who reviewed! (They picked up this chapter.) I'm sorry I couldn't get to everyone (I might be able to do a little on e-mail). But thank you so much for still leaving your review and helping me improve.

I believe 'sempai' is a term used to refer to an upperclassman. Yes, I added that for no reason. But make a mental note.

_(10/23/04) _Dedication: **Kat**

* * *

_-_

_-_

_"Are you sure you're okay to drive me to school today, Miroku-san?" Kohaku asked skeptically as he shut the door beside him. "You look awfully tired."_

__

_"I'm not tired," Miroku answered, shaking sleep from his eyes. "I just had a late night last night. You know, security business."_

__

_"Oh yeah, I know all about 'security business,' Kohaku chortled. "Did it involve 'securing' my sister to the bed?"_

__

_Miroku kept his eyes on the road. "It involved no such thing." _

__

_"What'd you secure her to then? The shower curtain rod?" The boy's smirk contorted into an ill look as the corners of his lips turned downwards, his complexion slightly green, and he thumped his head against the window. "On second thought . . . don't tell me."_

__

_The car screeched to a halt as they encountered a stop sign._

__

_Kohaku pointed a finger at him. "I saw that smile!"_

__

_"Well, you were staring at me! How do you expect me to drive while you're just . . . leering at me like that? Plus all that groaning?" Miroku complained, though a grin occasionally ghosted across his lips._

__

_"Even though I refuse to believe it, I will acknowledge that I know what is going on behind closed doors. I do live there you know." He held his hands to his stomach as if he were about to be sick. _

__

_"The fact that you can even suggest Sango and I engage in that sort of activity appalls me. Get your mind out of the gutter Kohaku. We are the epitome of a pure and honorable courtship."_

__

_There was a loud hacking cough from the boy seated on the passenger side. _

__

_"Feeling okay?" Miroku asked cheerfully as he slowed the car at a red light._

__

_Kohaku coughed loudly one last time for good measure before answering. "I think."_

__

_"I'll have you know that I was doing an evening shift last night," Miroku said smugly as he accelerated. _

__

_"I _bet_ you were doing someone - I mean, something, in the evening. Now in shifts . . . I'm not sure about that."_

__

_"Not funny."_

__

_"Wasn't meant to be. It's actually kind of disturbing."_

__

_"How can you say that human nature is disturbing? Have I taught you nothing?" Miroku asked as they approached the school, where a few other cars had accumulated to drop off students._

__

_"Pure and honorable courtship mean anything to you . . . ?" Kohaku countered with a grin as he opened the door and set a foot on the concrete._

__

_"Oh yeah." The driver scratched his head. "Ignore my other question."_

__

_The young boy stepped fully out of the car and made to shut the door when he poked his head back in._

__

_"Listen, I don't mind what you and Ane-ue get up to . . . which is pretty good of me, considering I'm her younger brother," he added thoughtfully. "But just keep in mind that I have ears. And that sound travels through walls."_

__

_With that, he closed the door leaving a dumbstruck Miroku sitting behind the wheel. He stayed still for awhile, but smiled widely after the boy had walked through the gate._

__

_--_

__

_She didn't hear him enter the house, nor did she hear the wind chimes signal this, because she was too angry and too frustrated. She was bent over the counter, propped on her elbows, one hand massaging her temples, one pressing the receiver to her ear tightly._

__

_"Father, I'm telling you, I'm sure . . . no, it's not what you think - Father, this is the right decision . . . won't you please listen?"_

__

_She had yanked the fridge door open, and was now angrily tossing various vegetables onto the counter, not noticing Miroku watching her just yet._

__

_"Don't bring up damn Takeda Kuranosuke!" she exclaimed, nudging the refrigerator door shut with her hip. "If you like him that much, than why don't _you_ date him?"_

__

_Switching the receiver to the other ear, her voice was muffled as she ducked her head into the cupboard. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner - Well, you're never here anyway! What'd you expect? The world to slow down for you?"_

__

_The entire kitchen vibrated as she kicked the cupboard door shut and nearly dented the countertop as she slammed the cutting board down, the vegetables bouncing alongside it._

__

_Observing, he idly noted that this wouldn't be a good time to grope her or perhaps suggest a romp in the living room for a solid hour now that Kohaku had gone to school._

__

_Finishing his musing, he focused on the scene before him and saw Sango fumbling for something in the utensil drawer. He panicked as she pulled out a large knife and pulled an onion towards her. _

__

_Tear inducing onion? Cleaver? Clearly angry and distracted Sango?_

__

_This wasn't going to fly. _

__

_Not to mention the sheer danger of it all._

__

_Rushing towards her, he pushed her wrist to the counter, shaking his head vigorously when she turned to him. She relinquished her grip and the knife clattered to the surface, where was immediately swept aside to a safe distance. _

__

_'Sorry' she mouthed, pointing to the receiver and scrunching her nose. He smiled weakly._

__

_"I'm _fine_! No, I know him! We've been dating for a while and - Yes I did tell you! When it got serious, that's when! Everything's fine! I'll be happy when you stop - Father! Father? Fath -"_

__

_There was a loud clang as she shoved the cordless receiver back onto the mounted cradle, before slumping against the wall next to it and swiftly bringing her fist against a few times, followed by her head, a small dent forming._

__

_"Sango, think of your poor brain cells," Miroku said as he encircled her waist from behind with one arm and stroked the top of her head with the other. "They can take only so much abuse."_

__

_She sighed heavily, her chest rising and falling deeply. "I just - I just, " her voice was so strained. "It's father."_

__

_He bent his head lower so that his chin could rest on her collarbone. "It's okay."_

__

_She shook her head, jostling him a bit. "It's not. You don't have to put up with this Miroku. I'm - I'm sorry."_

__

_Her body was twisted around to press flush against his, and he leaned his weight against her, pinning her lithe frame against the plaster. "Don't apologize," he spoke in undertone. "And don't stress yourself out like this." His hand dipped lazily over her curves. _

__

_Draping her arms over his shoulders and linking her hands, she exhaled again, closing her eyes. "It's just that . . . he makes me so mad sometimes!" she complained, the frustration climbing in her voice._

__

_"You don't see one another often, you never did as you were growing up Sango, why shouldn't you disagree once in a while? He . . . doesn't know some things about being a father. Do you sort of understand?"_

__

_Her right hand gripped his shoulder as he darted forward to kiss her briefly._

__

_"I guess," she admitted as he pulled away. "I just wish he could have actually met you before he got all defensive about men . . . he's about a decade late when it comes to that department."_

__

_Miroku looked as though a wicked thought struck him. She guessed correctly. He was wearing that grin again._

__

_"Sango, honey, do you still have your old high school uniform?"_

__

_Bewildered (and suspicious) she nodded slowly, narrowing her eyes._

__

_"Well . . . let's pretend you're seventeen again, I'm the desirable bad-ass upperclassman and your father isn't coming home for a while."_

__

_She raised an eyebrow and her mouth curved mischievously. "Oh? And am I not allowed any boys in my room?"_

__

_"None under any circumstances."_

__

_"I guess I can only say three things: I'm young, I'm a rebel, and I'm breaking the rules."_

__

_"And we have three hours."_

__

_"To my room, Miroku-sempai!"_

-- 

__

__**Any Given Someday**

****

****Chapter Five 

_Now Hold Me Back_

- 

- 

The next morning she awoke by the way of voices wafting up the stairs through her half-open door and a blistering headache. 

Looking down, she saw that she was still clothed in her white dress shirt, now lined with wrinkles and open to her navel. There was a run in her pantyhose and the lining of her skirt hung out from underneath. 

"Damn it," she muttered into the mattress, being forcibly reminded of her little tantrum last night. 

_I - I hit him_, she realized. _I hit him for no good reason._

"He wouldn't let me use the phone," she said aloud. 

_And so you hit him?_

Whoever was downstairs talking, she assumed, was now walking up the stairs. A polite knock sounded on the door, and because it was already open, she beckoned them in, despite her state of distress. 

"Ugh, Ane-ue, you don't look so good." 

"I know," she croaked, hiding her face with her hands. 

"Is this a bad time to tell you Takeda Kuranosuke is downstairs?" 

"What time is it?" 

"Ane-ue, it's half past noon." 

"Yes, that would be a bad time." 

"Well, he is. He brought you some soup and is making you tea because I told him you were sick when he called." 

She rolled over to stare at her brother in horror. "And you let him in?" 

"He said to open the door, I thought he was just going to leave whatever he brought here but then he just pushed past me!" 

"Tell him I'm sick," she muttered, rolling over so she faced away from him. 

She didn't see him roll his eyes. "You know where that got you." 

He stepped part way into her room and bent down to pick up the sheets. Looking from them to his sister's limp form, he threw them over her body in one fluid motion. The mattress squeaked as he perched on the edge, his back to hers. 

"Listen Ane-ue, I know you don't want to hear this right now." His tone was soft. "But he's not going away. He cares about you, he wants to be with you, and father only encourages him. He goes out of his way to be polite, to both of us, but frankly, I don't buy it." 

There was another creak of springs as he stood up to leave, turning around and speaking directly to her still back. "If you keep on avoiding him, he won't know how you really feel. I may be your younger brother, but I know when you're hurting. I don't like it, because I can't do anything. It has nothing to do with me." 

He huffed slightly as he whipped around, this time speaking as he walked towards the door. "I'll send him away now, but I can't continue to do it for you. I'm your younger brother, key word, 'younger.' It hurts me to say this, but . . . Ane-ue, please, pull yourself together." 

With that, he swung the door shut and shuffled down the stairs, leaving her alone to stare at the medicine cabinet and wait for tomorrow. 

-- 

"You did what?!" 

The poor girl clutching the mail to her chest hung her head. "I - " Her mouth moved but no sound came out. 

"Kagome-chan. What did you just say?" Sango asked, willing herself to be calm, even as she gripped the armrests of her chair. 

"Inuyasha and I . . . your car . . . " She trailed off with a mumble. 

"You and him. My car. And . . ." 

There was an echo on the marble as the parcels and envelopes scattered on the ground. 

"I'm so sorry Sango-chan! It was my fault, all my fault!" she was wailing. 

"Kagome-chan? Calm down." Sango attempted, though she'd be hard-pressed to calm herself down. 

She looked on the verge of tears, incredibly guilty and sniffing every so often. "It was so fast! I told Inuyasha not to race but - " 

Sango felt as though a bomb had exploded in her gut. She stood up quickly, now gripping the edge of the desk and staring at Kagome with a pleading look in her eyes. 

_Please don't say it._

__

__"Your car . . ." 

_My car . . ._

__

__"It's in the shop." 

Kagome looked up hesitantly following her confession, giving Sango a hopeful look. 

"And why is my car in the shop, Kagome-chan?" Sango asked, emphasizing the girl's name. 

"Because . . . because . . . " her bottom lip quivered. "Because Inuyasha was racing Kouga-kun and he hit a fire hydrant!" 

Sango blinked. "He what?" 

"He hit a fire hydrant!" Kagome wailed, waving her arms around. "He hit a damn fire hydrant! And Kouga pulled over and started saying that he was supposed to 'piss on it, not break it open'!" 

The receptionist dropped her pen and could only stare back at the girl who was close to hysterics across from her. 

"It was horrible Sango-chan!" she continued to cry as she hugged Sango who had come around the desk. "There was water everywhere, and Kouga was telling Inuyasha to shake! To shake!" 

"There, there," Sango comforted as she patted her friend on the back. 

"I'll help you pay for it, I promise," Kagome said earnestly. "We both will, I'll make it up to you, I swear!" 

"I'm sure you will," Sango said with a bright smile, holding the other girl's shoulders. "I'm sure you will." 

"No, you aren't. You're just saying that," Kagome sniffled, blowing her nose as Sango handed her a tissue. "I really will help out." 

Sango leaned back against the edge of the desk, folding her arms. "But how will I get home?" she asked herself under her breath. She looked at Kagome, now dabbing at the corners of her eyes, and couldn't help but see past her, to where he was sitting, feet crossed on top of the desk. 

-- 

She chickened out. 

Somehow, she had ended up standing on the outside of the glass doors, leaning up against them and taking a deep breath. He'd let her get by easily today. When she came through those doors at a semi-sprint, she'd been ecstatic with the feeling that she'd be able to wait for the cab she'd called in peace, without any hassles . . . or so she'd thought. 

"Really needed that fresh air didn't you?" his voice wafted through the air between them as the second door swung open suddenly. 

Her lips pursed and her face began to tingle. With anger, yes, but something else . . . familiarity, and annoyance. Why did he insist on doing this to her? Make her feel guilt, make her moods fluctuate so spontaneously, make her . . . miss him. 

Because he knew her. He knew everything. 

And she did miss him. Didn't she? 

She loved him. 

She turned her face to she side, her body following suit. "Now is not the time," she said quietly, wondering if he could hear her. 

"The time for what?" he asked. She knew he wasn't looking at her either. She could feel it. 

"For this," she answered with gritted teeth. "Go back inside." 

"For us?" 

Her shoulders stiffened and she felt sudden pressure, as though the sides of her head were being squeezed together. 

"When is it the time?" 

Her hair billowed about her shoulders in an arc as she whipped her head back to glare at his profile over her shoulder. "It's over. It's over, okay?" 

"What's over?" 

"What _is_ it with you, Miroku? You can never admit . . . give me a straight answer for once, damn it!" 

She swore under her breath, leaning her back against the wall and leaning her head back slightly. It still ached. 

"I admit a lot of things Sango," he said, his tone a hint defensive. "I know that I can give straight answers." 

"Straight lies?" she spat. 

"You think I lie, Sango? You think I keep things from you? Don't you remember?" 

Sango's breath caught in her throat for a second, her breathing shallow as her mind begged the past to stay behind. 

"Why do things have to be this way, Sango?" 

Her hands were whitened fists, one grabbing a chunk of her hair and threatening to rip it from her scalp, the other clutching the handle of her bag so tightly her nails dug trenches in her palm. 

"We're meant to be this way. Why fight it? This is how it was meant to be." 

He sounded angrier now. "And who decided that? Did you? Tell me now because I sure as hell didn't." 

It must have been an uncomfortable scene for the night janitor, something he could go home and gossip about with his wife. The receptionist and the security guard, yes, they were fighting outside the entrance. She was red with anger, he was almost shaking trying to keep his control . . . it was a riot. 

"Who cares who decided?" Sango snapped loudly, turning around and slapping a hand on the door, rattling it slightly. "The point is, it's over." 

"And you don't even want to try?" 

Her teeth gnawed into her bottom lip as she struggled not to let her emotions get the best of her. She looked away. 

"No." 

There was a pause as her single response hung between them. 

"Look me in the eyes and say that." 

She couldn't do it. Her head raised, but as soon as her sight grazed the bridge of his nose her chin dropped again. 

"Damn it Sango, look me in my eyes and say that!" 

He sounded so on edge . . . so desperate. 

"I can't." 

Her voice was the ghost of a whisper, sobs fought to escape her and the tears brimmed her eyelids, clinging in droplets to her eyelashes. 

"You can't say it." 

There was a low rumble of a muffler as the ordered taxi circled the parking lot to pull up next to the curb. 

As if a moth in front of a fluorescent light, she automatically stepped towards it. 

"Sango . . . I miss you. I'm putting it out here for you now. I miss you," he said to her back. 

She paused, telling her legs to keep moving. 

"The day that you can look into my eyes and tell me that I meant nothing to you, I'll happily give up. I'll never talk to you again. But is that what you want?" 

No, the tears weren't coming, there was no way he could be seeing her cry again. She hated when he saw her cry. 

"Why are you trying so hard to say goodbye?" 

When she was crying, he would be there as comfort, and the tears reminded her that she needed him. 

And so she didn't turn around. 

She wondered, as she rubbed her temples in small circles, if he was as chilled by the feeling of watching her drive away in a taxi as she was of looking at him through the back window, until they made a turn, and he was no longer visible. 

If he was in her line of sight for a second longer, she would have seen him lose his temper and fall with his back against the wall, but she was too busy breaking down herself. 

-- 

- 

_These cuts are leaving creases.  
Trace the scars, to fit the pieces,  
to tell your story, you don't need to say a word._


	6. Not So Easy

Previous disclaimers apply

_(10/30/04)_

**A/N:** I wish I had dated these chapters, because I really finished them awhile ago. Oh well. Anyway, since I have nothing good to say about this chapter, I'll just skip to the big paragraph of review commentary! Thank you to all the people who reviewed, sorry if I don't get to everyone.

**Lady Sango 7**, you're so nice. Always doing random nice things for me. So, please don't kill me after this chapter. **WindSprite**, you like it? Then I like you. **faltering**, you make me nervous. I am working on the ending chapters of the story, and now the reason is looking pretty stupid. But thanks for de-lurking just for me! **OhJoy **- You're like that too? I stalk everyone who reads my stuff. **FlamingRedFox** - Thank you! The stubbornness goes on for a few more chapters. **Abbykat, gypsymuse - **Thanks for taking an chance with AU on me. **Marie Marko, Fireblade K'Chona - **Please don't cry? :) **Quiet Escapist, LavenderRose666, Lily Thorne, Starzski - **You don't know the waves of relief I feel that each chapter is generally well received. **Ayrith - **Originally, I was going to do the poetry thing, but I realized after a while that it sucked and I took the lyric route. I disclaim the lyrics!

* * *

_--_

_-_

_"I won't even ask," Kohaku said bluntly as he downed his glass of water as though it would make the sight before him blur._

__

_"Oh, shut it Kohaku," Sango scolded good naturedly, spinning around on the spot, unable to see with a blindfold over her eyes. "Where is he Miroku? Bring him here so that I can pinch his cheeks."_

__

_"Now, now Sango," Miroku laughed as he pushed her shoulders down gently, indicating to her that she could sit. "Let's not get too violent."_

__

_"I'll put a clothespin on your nose while you're sleeping," Sango threatened, containing her giggles. "I'll put your hands in warm water, I'll -"_

__

_She paused, suddenly hit with a realization. "Kohaku's here?"_

__

_"Yes," Miroku confirmed, amused._

__

_"Then you're . . . we're not going to - "_

__

_"Sango," Miroku muttered, putting a finger to her lips. "I just said that so you'd agree to the blindfold."_

__

_He looked over to where Kohaku was staring at him over the counter, clearly horrified. Sango, in her neat little blindfold, was oblivious, sitting on the couch contentedly._

__

_"So why the blindfold then?" she questioned._

__

_"You'll see," he said, grinning. He bend down to kiss her quickly before walking from the living room. The wind chimes jingled as he went through the front doors._

__

_"Ane-ue?" Kohaku said casually to Sango when she began to fidget whilst waiting._

__

_"Yes?" she answered, looking to where his voice was coming from._

__

_"I'd like my walls soundproofed, and a signed certificate of authentication stating that any time you have used a blindfold, it was because you were whacking a Pinata."_

__

_"Hmm," Sango thought, tapping her chin with her finger. "You could say that. It wouldn't be entirely untrue."_

__

_Kohaku took another swig of his water, choking, and she smirked, not being able to see him._

__

_"Which reminds me Kohaku, can I borrow your nylon rope tonight?"_

__

_"You wound me, dear sister."_

__

_Miroku was stepping quietly back into the room, and something like a bell jingled with each careful step. _

__

_"Put your arms up," he instructed. She complied. _

__

_A warm weight filled her lap. _

__

_"Okay, you can take it off now."_

__

_Excitedly, Sango undid the small knot of fabric, and it fell around her face, revealing shining eyes._

__

_"Happy Birthday."_

__

_"It's adorable!" she burst in delight, gathering a small kitten in her arms, smoothing its deep cream coloured fur. It fit comfortably in her cupped palms, mewing._

__

_"It's a girl," Miroku informed her between peals of laughter as the kitten batted at her hair._

__

_"What's her name?" Sango asked as she rubbed behind its ear._

__

_"Kirara."_

__

_"I love her. Did you hear that?" she cooed, rubbing noses with the kitten. "I love you Kirara."_

__

_Miroku cleared his throat loudly, and she paused, pretending she had just noticed he was there._

__

_"Oh, and you too," she said in a bored voice._

__

_Scandalized, his hands darted around hers and he pulled the kitten away from her, putting it gently on the floor. It scampered away and was promptly ravished by Kohaku._

__

_"What did you do that for?" she pouted. "My birthday present!"_

__

_He held her face and slipped the blindfold back over her eyes. "I decided I can't share you. Kohaku I tolerate, but sharing you with a third person - animal, just doesn't leave enough for me," he explained, pressing kisses all over her face._

__

_"Here's your new birthday present."_

__

_Kirara balanced on top of Kohaku's head as he deftly closed the blinds, mumbling to himself._

__

_"And I'm standing right here too. You guys make me sick."_

__

_He closed the french doors behind him as he took the new pet upstairs to his room._

__

_"If this is my birthday present - " Sango moaned breathlessly between long, languorous kisses as the door slammed shut. "It's my birthday every day, you cheapskate."_

-- 

__

__

__**Any Given Someday**

****

****Chapter 6__

__

_Not So Easy_

-- 

__

__Thursday was always a bland day. Then again, everyday was moderately dull. But Thursday was doubly bland because it marked the day before Friday. Actually, Friday wasn't that insipid either but more drawn-out; what with everyone waiting for the day to just end before they were free for the weekend. 

The grey space between morning and midday was probably the slowest period of time Sango had ever experienced. She was bored. 

She opened her drawer in hopes of finding something to amuse herself with and was surprised to see a novel sitting on top of all the extra filing folders and staples. The novel, a horribly cliché and cheesy one at that, was one that Kagome had lent it to her a very long time ago. The cover was marred with dust, which she blew off evenly before coughing a little as a few of the particles found their way into her throat. 

She'd been reading this to pass the time when she still was in need of a car and had just begun dating Miroku. It was funny as hell. According to the author, love was all sweet whispers, kind words, long winded explanations of how beautiful someone was and wild sexy copulation (from here forward referred to as 'making love'). 

And right now, she needed a cynical laugh. 

Adjusting her chair so she could lean back, she propped her elbows on the armrests and flipped through the brittle, yellowed pages, hoping to recognize the spot where she had left off. 

Instead, a small, stark white scrap of paper fell from between the pages and fluttered to her lap. She stared at it for a moment, wondering if that had marked the page. 

With hesitant fingers, she pried the folded paper apart, revealing a hurriedly scrawled message. 

_Does he ever get her back?_

__

__She threw the book back into her drawer and slammed it shut, crossing her arms under her chest and glaring at the little note. 

What the hell was his problem? 

-- 

It was a little after hours, however everyone had practically run out the building over the course of the last few minutes. 

She was still there, and he was still there. And the damn entrance hall was so empty. 

_Typical_, she thought as she marched across the marble, the familiar sound of clicking heels anything but comforting. _Sitting there with that stupid look on his face. Like he hasn't done anything._

__

__"Hey," she snapped, stopping in front of him with her hands on her hips. His feet disappeared from atop the desk and he was standing, leaning lazily against the edge. 

"Come to say it?" 

She didn't answer, and her lips pursed into a tight line. A crumpled call of paper bounced off of his chest. 

"What the hell is this?" 

He was nonplussed. "It looks like a note." 

"Since when did you get off sticking notes in my personal belongings? I could have you arrested for this, you stupid -" 

"I didn't put that in your book . . . today. Maybe I did . . . once upon a time, before you let me go." 

The words were like a slap in the face. Ironic. It was always, 'before she let him go,' never 'before he left.' 

"Have you forgotten?" 

The entire time they faced one another, she never looked into his eyes. 

There was a faint sound of crinkles being smoothed from paper. 

"So, tell me, how _does_ the story end?" 

She walked away so fast that the plastic leaves on the artificial potted plants shivered slightly. No matter what she did . . . he was always . . . _him_. 

-- 

She was a frigid personification of pure ice as she walked through those doors, feeling his eyes on her the entire time. But inside, she wanted to shake with sobs, scream in anger, and pity herself for being such a coward. Brave enough? She was never brave enough. 

He made it so simple. He put it all out there for her. He missed her. 

But what did he miss? 

Her body? 

Her face? 

Their idea of what they _thought_ they were? 

She didn't know. She'd never been able to tell. But what she did know was that all she had to do was say those words, to say she didn't want to try again. He gave her his word. Maybe somewhere inside, she really wanted to be without him. 

It was raining. 

She expected to get out easy this time. After all, hadn't she done enough damage? Every time those bitter words escaped her lips, she felt instant regret. She was pushing him away, and she knew it. By hurting him, she wanted to force him to place his thoughts of her in the past. Why couldn't he accept that? Why couldn't she? Why did she push him away? 

Hurt? 

Insecurity? 

Honesty? 

She swore as she realized she had forgotten her bag. 

Angrily, her fists clenched around the handle of the doors and she pulled. Nothing happened. 

Shit. They were locked. 

The doors rattled as the pounded on them in frustration, tiny water droplets spraying from the impact of her arms on the glass, joining the falling rain. 

"Fuck! Open the door!" she shouted, hoping the door wasn't soundproof. He could be just ignoring her; she could see him sitting there smugly, his feet on the desk. 

She swore again, loudly, and he looked up in mild interest. He pulled the handle on the other side, the door opened before her and she seethed before him, a lone drop of water rolling slowly down her forehead. She stormed past him, pushing him aside, not caring if she was being unreasonable, if she loved this man, if he was watching her every move. 

In fact, she was just so tired of it all that when she exited she didn't notice the desk was empty. 

The rain was nothing but a light patter, barely enough to disturb the glass, and they stood beneath the small overhang over the entrance, her a few steps in front of him, where he was leaning against a wall. 

She stopped just outside the door, holding her head between her hands and inhaling the strong fumes of secondhand smoke. 

"Damn it" she muttered, muffled by her thumbnail being ground between her teeth. 

"I thought you'd gotten rid of that bad habit," a voice drawled lazily behind her. Her blood began to reach a boiling point. 

"You're one to speak of bad habits," she snapped, viciously nibbling at the edges of her nails. "At least mine won't cut a few years off of my life." 

He smiled darkly as he tapped the burned ash off the end of the stick, watching as it floated to the wet stone beneath his feet, only to raise it to his lips once more. 

"It's my first in a while," he said, the pale smoke escaping from his mouth. 

She wanted to move farther away from him, while she waited for Kagome to pick her up with her family's car; she had had a day off. The silence was utterly unnerving . . . the mist-like patter of the rain barely audible in any normal circumstance, but right now it was like a waterfall from the heavens. 

"You don't smoke," she said, dumbstruck. The overwhelming smell of burning tobacco invaded her nose. 

"I did," he disproved with a rueful expression. "Quite a while ago." 

"Y-you really shouldn't," she couldn't help saying; all of her words were coming out of reflex. "I never saw you - " 

He threw the finished cigarette on the ground, a thin line of smoke escaping from it before he crushed it with his heel. 

"You never saw me do this because it was before we'd met, before everything happened." 

She was confused now, more so than angry, and her teeth ground on the nail of her pinkie vigorously. "Then - " 

"I quit." 

"You quit . . . when we met?" 

His silence confirmed her now rhetorical question. 

"Why . . . " 

"I think that would be obvious," he casually remarked as he pulled another from his pocket. 

She stared hard at him, his face shadowed by his bangs. He didn't say anything more, just smirked, not in mockery of her but perhaps of himself. 

"I wanted to be someone you'd be proud to have around you." 

"You were." 

"Was I?" 

A few sparks flew from his lighter and a low rumble sounded above them. The smell of smoke filled her lungs again and she took an unsure step back. 

_Where are you Kagome? Where the hell are you!_

She stepped backwards again towards the curb as a low thunder rumbled overhead. There was a faint snap as her right leg suddenly jerked forward, the heel of her shoe wedged between a crack in the concrete. 

And she was falling, not caring, waiting to hit the ground and feel the gravel in her knees, the water splash back upon her legs and skirt. 

And his strong arms were about her, supporting her, firmly wound about her waist. Her body was limp, and her legs hung dangling, the toes of her shoes submerged beneath the rain water.__

__

__"Careful . . ." he was whispering in her ear. 

_His words . . . his stupid words._

__

__He pulled her up with him, and she tried to squirm, to struggle, but she only pressed herself back against him, absorbing his warmth in the dampness. It was so cold, it was damp and cold, and he was warm. 

Once on her feet, his arms loosened around her waist and she wavered before falling back into him. The light patter of rain combined with the lingering humidity created a light curtain of mist rising around their ankles. 

Her hands rested on his chest, and she could feel his heart beating beneath them. Being back in his arms like this . . . so close to him . . . yet she tried to convince him this was over. 

How could it be over when she was like this at the slightest touch? 

"Sango?" she heard his voice call. It was low, hesitant, maybe a little afraid. All she knew was that she could see those lips moving. Those wide, slightly dry, barely parted lips; they were calling her. 

She wanted to touch him. And so she did, running her fingers along his face and across his mouth. Inadvertently he turned his head and kissed her palm. 

The bright sheen of headlights and blinding lightning flooded her senses and she recoiled, realizing where she was and what she was doing. Pulling her face away in disgust at herself and at him, he stood there in a daze. Her fingers . . . they were . . . touching him. He was holding a hand to his mouth, watching her silently. 

She turned away from him, embarrassed and ashamed. 

"Sango-chan?" 

Kagome's hesitant voice. 

"I could always . . . come back later." 

"No, no it's fine. I'm coming," Sango managed to get out. 

-- 

Kagome was uncharacteristically silent as she drove, only speaking when she asked Sango where the turns were. It seemed as though she were extra fidgety, gathering up her courage. 

"Hey," Kagome murmured quietly to the girl in the passenger seat, who was staring listlessly out the window. "Are you -? " 

"It's fine," Sango said flatly. "Everything is just fine." 

"Didn't look like it," Kagome answered gently. "Not at all." 

"It's not like he really cares," Sango spat, her emotions flaring. "He enjoys it . . . he enjoys toying with me." 

"That's not true Sango-chan." She made a smooth right. 

"How do you know?" Sango shot back, instantly regretful at her rude tone. 

Surprisingly, she chuckled softly. "What did he say to you?" 

Sango made a noise of discontent, nibbling on her thumbnail. "Misses me. So?" 

"So you're distraught. Sango-chan, I don't know much about what happened, you've never been one to tell me every little detail about your personal life, and I respect that. But, as a friend, and a co-worker, I can tell you that I honestly think things have changed. I noticed, but I never asked you. Then one day I found you bawling in the washroom." 

Sango continued to chew on her nails, anxious to know where her friend was going with this. 

"The point is, I had to find you like that before you would even tell me anything. Sango-chan, you're kind and sweet, but it takes so much for you to open up. And maybe . . . if I knew a little about what had happened, I could give you more support. I feel guilty because I don't know how to help you." 

"Turn left here," Sango interrupted in a small voice. 

"He told you he misses you. What did you say?" 

"Nothing," Sango answered in barely a breath. 

"Nothing?" Kagome repeated, raising an eyebrow. "He put his feelings out on the table and you couldn't say anything?" 

"What am I supposed to say Kagome?" Sango burst, her fists clenching on her lap. "I don't know! I don't know what to do! He might be . . . he might be just playing with my head. He always does." 

The girl driving had an contemplative looked on her face as she turned into the neighborhood. 

"It's the yellow house on the left." 

"How does he play with your head, Sango-chan?" 

"He makes me - he has a way with words . . . and actions . . . I don't know. I can't tell if he's acting . . . if he's telling the truth- " 

"Sango-chan, he really does love you." 

"What does that have to do with anything?" she exclaimed, slamming her hand down on the dashboard. 

"Everything," Kagome said simply, smiling. Sango looked at her in disbelief. "He loves you. Even now. And I have a feeling that what I said about you not being able to open up may have had something to do with it. You love him too. You still do. You never stopped." 

_Me . . . not opening up. It's not like I didn't trust him . . . I thought the world of him. But I was afraid._

__

__"Thank you for the drive Kagome-chan," she said quietly as her friend pulled up in front of her house. 

_Did I think that if I told him, he'd think differently of me? That if I whined and complained to him, he'd become annoyed?_

"Umm, you're welcome I guess? I did accidentally wreck your car," Kagome said, flushing. Her expression softened. "But . . . I really hope everything works out. I'm here for you." 

_It doesn't matter. It's over._

Sango managed a weak smile. 

"By the way, do you have guests over?" 

"Not that I know of."__

__

__Walking up her driveway, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the expensive car that was indeed parked outside her garage.__

__

__"Kohaku, I'm home," she called out wearily into the house. "Where are you?" 

There was a shuffling of bodies as Kohaku materialized breathless in front of her. "Ane-ue, I didn't want to let him in but -" 

"Takeda-san?" 

Her brother nodded. 

Her unreadable expression was set and she looked determinedly towards the living room. "It's fine. I'll take it from here." She was looking straight ahead, anywhere but at Kohaku's face. "You go . . . do homework or something. Yeah." She nudged him towards the stairs, and he began to step upwards, though it looked like he was forcing himself to do it. 

Taking a deep breath, she walked in through the doorway. 

He immediately stood when he saw her come in. 

"Sango-san," he said, rushing towards her and grabbing her shoulders. "Sango-san, I was so worried." His relieved expression became somewhat stern. "You shouldn't have gone to work if you were sick." 

Her fingers gave an involuntary twitch. "I'm okay, Takeda-san. I wasn't really that sick." 

He looked at her skeptically. "But the way Kohaku described it, you couldn't lift your arm," he chided, ushering her into a seat. 

"Did he now?" 

"Yes, he said you had multiple limb dysfunction and projectile vomiting," he explained seriously. 

She stared at him blankly before recovering. "Oh, yes, that wasn't exactly it . . . but I feel better now. Thank you for your concern. Is that why you came over?" 

"Well, I suppose I could . . . after all . . ." he mused. Sango looked at him curiously. 

"I wanted to wait until you were better, but you seem to be well enough. Yes, this is the right time," he began to beam at her. 

Something like a cough tickled the inside of her throat. He mistook it for impatient coaxing. 

"Sango," he said warmly, smiling fondly down at her, reaching to tuck her hair behind her ears, not noticing her flinch. 

What was supposed to be a 'yes' came out as a squeak. 

"You know that I care for you very much." 

Her lips parted, but he continued. 

"And I know that it's hard for you to express yourself, but I can tell that you feel the same as I do." 

Her eyes widened, and she was unable to speak, but again he mistook it for a positive response, a reason to continue. 

"What I'm trying to say is that I'm willing to let you be with me, to help you and make life for you and Kohaku better. You won't ever have to work again, and I'll give you the world. I have eyes only for you," he finished, emphasizing his last point.__

__

__Here this . . . . this _man_ stood, holding her hands and touching her hair and face, telling her that he cared about her and _obviously_ she cared about him as well; promising her a mansion and riches, and everything she could ever want. 

He knew nothing. 

"I want us to be exclusive, Sango-san. I want you to be mine." 

And it was a few hours ago once more, and Miroku was holding her, whispering in her ear, and she was dazed by him, reaching for his mouth and leaning towards him . . . 

She didn't want that. 

What did she want? 

She vaguely heard the sound of something thumping upstairs. Or was it coming from her chest? 

"Yes. I'm yours." 

She felt nothing as he happily pressed his mouth to hers. Even if her mind wandered . . . and she imagined Miroku, it couldn't be helped. Takeda was overly aggressive, he didn't seem to notice (or care, for that matter) that Sango was still and frozen, and that she didn't respond. 

"I'm so happy for us." 

Did he ask her if she was? 

No. 

And if there were tears shining on her face as they rolled down her cheeks, he mistook them for tears of joy. 

This was the easy way out. 

-- 

- 

_I won't ask you  
To give up on the things that seem to keep you gone  
But I can be gone too_


	7. Inhibition

_Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha. All song lyrics used are borrowed from Dashboard Confessional._

(10/11/04)

**A/N**: There's more . . . questionable activity in this chapter, just a warning.

Response paragraph of fun:

**Fireblade K'Chona - **The entire _plot_ is already cliche! The least I could do was make the reason for the plot not cliche, whatever that means. **FlamingRedFox **- You don't know how much flack I take (from myself) for making everyone OOC, so that really means a lot to me. **Lady Sango 7 - **I hope none of this chapter corrupted you. :) **ScoRPion Blade - **I don't know if I'm deserving of all that . . . but thanks so much for reviewing! **Demon Exterminator Barbie - **It's all in the name of drama, my dear. **Lily Thorne **- When do I ever write fluff? I honestly don't know how to. **ohJoy - **One and a half chapters okay with you? Come on, at least let him get _something_. **Ennariel, chocolatechipp, Kitty Pryde2, lodz, Sango0808, KaguratheWind, YoukaiTajaiyaSango, TK, Starzski - **Thanks for reading, yes, I am evil, and thanks for putting up with the weather conditions. **Windsprite **- Thanks for you-know-what.

**Katrina5** is super cool. She fixes my Livejournal, shares her music, is a fountain of information, shows me all her pretty icons and is letting me send her a Christmas card. She has no car so let's all hope she gets one soon. And sometimes, very rarely, she'll write for me. :) She also convinced me not to update this story on the 24th of every month. Since she spoils me on occasion, I wrote a story for her. Because she's just cool.

People! We should all love Kuranosuke!

* * *

_--_

_-_

_He always said the same thing. They would be lying there, listening to one another breathe, and he would always say it._

__

_"I love you, Kirisame Sango."_

__

_As he said this he had the propensity of touching her in simple, affectionate ways. Right now his fingertips ran down the skin of her shoulder and length of her arm, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake._

__

_She smiled gently, moving forward to press closer against his front. He was propped on his right elbow, his left hand now tracing intricate patterns along the small of her back._

__

_"Tickles," she murmured into his shoulder. He applied an even more feather-light touch, and she was inclined to giggle._

__

_The arm wound around her body and she found herself half laying on him as he rolled onto his back. She tapped her own fingers down his chest and torso and back up again, flattening her palm to his heart, her body rising with his even breaths._

__

__This is beautiful. This is heaven.__

__

_"What are you thinking?" she asked softly, trailing her hand up his arm and entwining their hands._

__

_"Many things," he admitted, as she pulled their clasped hands towards her mouth and she pressed her lips to every one of his fingers. "A lot of them are about you."_

__

_"Oh really?" she commented, rubbing her nose against his chin. "Care to share?"_

__

_"Well . . ." he said thoughtfully, craning his neck to kiss the top of her head. "Like the fact that I think my eyes might permanently cross one day because of you."_

__

_"No they won't," she assured him, laying her hands across his chest and propping her chin atop of them. "I won't let them."_

__

_"And . . . that I don't want to get up right now because I wouldn't mind staying like this all day."_

__

_"I think you would," Sango said teasingly, fitting her arms around his neck as best she could. "We'd start to stick together."_

__

_"And that you're beautiful."_

__

_The soft light of the sun through the curtains lit her face, giving it a light peachy glow as she blushed. He loved her. _

_Her hands trailed up the line of his neck and her palm pressed against his cheek, her fingertips pushing into his hair._

__

_He reached down to grip her by the waist and he pulled her a little higher and closer to him, his expression suddenly serious._

__

_"Sango, I love you. You know that right?"_

__

_She held the sides of his face, bewildered. "You only say it so many times."_

__

_He gave her an assuring look. "Then you would tell me if anything was wrong, right? Or if you were unhappy?"_

__

_She squirmed slightly and something flashed in her eyes before she moved her face to his to kiss him. "Yes, I would."_

__

_"Good," he answered, relaxing a bit. He smiled in content, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, inhaling the scent of her, lavender and magnolia, and an undertone of him._

__

_"You would too, right?"_

__

_"Of course," he assured her, not having to think about his answer. _

__

_A happy sigh rose from her as he absently ran his fingers through her hair, freeing it from tangles and spreading it over their bodies. It was long enough that he could feel it fall across his torso in deep brown waves, highlighted by the glare of the sun, tickling his skin._

__

_"What day is it today?"_

__

_"Saturday."_

__

_"Kohaku - "_

__

_"Went out with a friend," she interrupted with a smile. "I heard him leave."_

__

_He rolled over so he was atop her, supporting himself with his arm. She began to flush and for some reason, she couldn't stop smiling, even when his hand trailed down south to caress her bottom._

__

_She stopped him as his lips began to descend upon hers, and he regarded her curiously. _

__

_"Just remember that we have to clean up better this time."_

__

_"Oh yeah," Miroku said demurely as he scratched his head. "That wasn't my fault."_

__

_She pinched his nose. "You were the one that oh-so-casually said, 'so that's where it went,' when Kohaku pulled out my bra from between the cushions on the couch."_

__

_"But that _is_ where it went. Plus, you were getting on my case for losing it."_

__

_"That was your fault too," she clarified. "That better not happen again. I'd like Kohaku to grow up properly, mind you."_

__

_"Too late," Miroku said with a grin. "He found my collection of dirty magazines last week."_

__

_She raised an eyebrow skeptically. "And?"_

__

_"He didn't want them, oddly enough, even when I offered," he answered, stretching his arms. "Now let's just hope he doesn't get his hands on that videotape. Any last shred of innocence he ever held about his older sister would be gone forever."_

__

_"Shush," she pouted. "I _am_ innocent."_

__

_It was his turn to raise his eyebrows at her. "I can give _much_ evidence to the contrary."_

- 

-- 

__

__

__**Any Given Someday**

****

****Chapter 7 

_Inhibition_

-- 

- 

"Kohaku, are you ready?" She knocked softly at his door. "Takeda-san is here." 

"No," came his muffled voice. "You can leave, I have a friend who's driving me."__

__

__"Who?" she asked, suspicious of the sudden change of plans. "Why didn't you tell me?" 

"I just didn't," he said through the door. "Go already, you'll be late." 

Sighing, she fisted her hand around her collar, her fingers pressing against the base of her neck as though something should have been there. She glanced once more at his door before descending down the stairs. 

-- 

The streets were wet as they drove, and he was delivering an anecdote about something interesting that had happened at a meeting the other day. Unfortunately for her, it wasn't that interesting yet. 

As he pulled up in front of her building, she was about to open the door to escape but he'd already run around to the other side and was holding out his hand to help her. '_I'm not helpless,'_ she wanted to complain. 

"Thank you very much," she said with a stutter, which he interpreted as shy and polite surprise 

He never let go of her hand as they walked, still chatting animatedly to her as they walked. 

_No. Oh please no._

She ducked her head down and attempted to cover her face as he moved to hold the doors open in an attempt to be a 'true gentleman.' 

It washed over her like the flash of lighting from yesterday. He was looking. He was _staring_. 

Kuranosuke paused dramatically to deliver the long-awaited, supposedly fabulous punch line of his story when he was promptly interrupted. 

"Identification please, Miss." 

Sango stopped walking and her companion stopped as well, confused. She winced as his head whipped around to focus on the perpetrator. 

"You," he said coldly, glaring at Miroku from where he stood. 

"Good morning," the guard said in just as steely a tone. "What brings you here today?" 

"Accompanying my girlfriend to work," he said smugly, gripping her hand a little tighter than needed and pulling her next to him. Sango looked down at the marble, greeted by a blurry reflection of herself. 

"Girlfriend? Well, congratulations." 

Kuranosuke preened and his chest swelled with pride. 

"I'll have you know you don't deserve her," Miroku finished stiffly, leaning back in his chair and staring at the two intently. 

Sango looked between them in worry as Kuranosuke's forehead twitched and he squeezed her hand harder. 

"I will not be spoken to by someone below me. My status warrants respect," he said in a hard voice. "And if anything, you're the one who didn't deserve her. I'm the one here to pick up the pieces and clean up your mess." 

He sent a final glare towards the other man before pulling Sango towards him and forcefully kissing her. His arms were constricting around her, and her eyes were wide. He pulled away and she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. 

"Have a wonderful day at work, Sango-san," he said, touching her cheek briefly. 

She stared at the ground a moment longer before raising her sleeve to her lips, the lipstick she'd put on that morning smearing across the white fabric. She swore silently. She didn't wear lipstick. She'd put it on for _him_. 

That burning feeling again. It hurt. It was hot like vodka trickling down her throat, and heating her entire body with shame. 

Shame. She was so _ashamed_ that he had been forced to sit there, to watch, as another man, one that she had assured him countless times that she cared nothing for, grabbed her and kissed her, while she had done nothing. She had complied. 

And at the moment, Sango didn't know what to do. The despair, the confusion wore her thin, pouring over her in powerful waves that were capable of knocking her over. She just _hurt, _andit was so hard to breathe.__

__

__Why did it hurt if it was over? Every kiss, every one sided kiss filled her with all that she missed about _Miroku_. She could close her eyes and _taste_ him lingering on her lips. She was aching for him, starving, yet pushing him so far away. Was she scared? 

God, she could have sworn she was going insane. She never knew how she felt, except that it was true, she still loved him.The path she took alone was winding, and she was lost. __

__

If she could feel it in her that she'd hurt him, did that mean she was letting herself believe that he still loved her? 

He had prided her on always having some sense of control. His Sango, she was not someone you could have your way with any day. 

Yet right in front of him, she had contradicted all that, acting not as the woman he knew, but a little girl who was told how to feel, how to look, how to love. And he was probably laughing at her, ashamed at himself for having been with her, this girl who was merely a marionette of affection. __

__

__That little girl called out to him, she was begging him. _Take me back._

__

__Just as it always was, she couldn't look at his face, especially not now. She didn't know if she could ever again. The ID card slid across the table, slightly grey and bearing a picture of her smiling sleepily. ID pictures always turned out bad. 

"I hope you're happy, Kirisame-san." 

The card sat upon the table, contrasting sharply with the dark surface. 

"I - " 

_Say it. Tell him everything's wonderful. _

__

__She could not. 

-- 

This was unbelievable. For some reason - some inane reason - she couldn't refuse him. 

"I need you to come to my car with me." 

She looked up in slight worry as his sharp command halted her steps, her pulse involuntarily quickening. 

"Why?" she said quietly. 

"I have some things to return to you." 

She didn't know why, or what compelled her to do it, but she followed him outside, the harsh wind blowing the rain hard towards her, stinging as the drops collided with the sensitive skin on her face. 

His form was sharply illuminated in front of her as lighting flashed suddenly, and he held out an arm to stop her as he reached into his pocket. 

The precipitation showed no mercy, hammering down on their heads and soaking them. Her hair was tangled and clung to her skin, heavy with liquid. 

"So," he said loudly, so that he could be heard over the rain. "Takeda Kuranosuke treating you well?" 

"That's none of your business," Sango said after a pause. Really, she wanted to lie and say no, no he wasn't, but she didn't want to give him any more satisfaction that he probably already had. 

He turned around from where he had been rummaging for something in the back seat. 

"I guess there really was something you liked about him," he said casually as his turned his back to her once again. "At least I'm not holding you two back anymore. After all . . . you don't seem to mind his attentions." 

God, how she wanted to hold him up against his vehicle and choke him. How bitter was he? 

"I do," she said quietly, her voice muted beneath the backdrop of falling rain. "I mind because . . . because . . ." 

_He's not you._

"Did you hear me Sango?" he asked as he turned around to face her again, clutching something in his hands. 

She shook her head from her stupor, blinking the rain - yes, it was the rain - from running into her eyes. 

He was saying something, she could see his lips moving, but the water was so loud on the car, on the ground that she leaned closer to hear him. She wanted to hear him. 

"I can't hear you," she mouthed, gripping the sleeves of her sweater around her because she was shivering so violently. 

"I want you to be happy," he said into her ear, his chin grazing her shoulder and his breath tickling her neck. 

"I'm not." Her lips barely moved as she said the two words, but he seemed to understand. _Please understand_. 

"I wanted to give you this back." 

He extended his forefinger and a thin chain fell from it, almost invisible in the blur of water falling above them. She stared at it, her palm reaching out to let the weighted end rest on the upside of her hand. 

A little pool of water collected around the thin silver ring in the center of her palm, hanging from the end of the necklace. 

Wordlessly, she let the ring dangle again, and turned around, lifting her hair. She knew he was struck with confusion. But so was she. 

_In my head, do I feel what I'm not supposed to feel?_

The chain was cool against her skin, and his hands were wet as they brushed the back of her neck to clasp the ends. He let go, and the necklace fell loose, the ring hanging just below her collarbone. But he never let go of her shoulders. 

She dropped her hair and it hung limply in dripping tendrils, keeping her body still even as it begged her to shiver, and clenching her jaw to keep her teeth from shattering. 

_How did it come to this?_

His hands, they were on her shoulders, trailing along her neck and back down her arms, squeezing every so often. 

Her breath caught in her throat as they returned to her back, tracing her sides and feeling the contours of her spine as best they could through her clothing. 

"Please . . . stop," she breathed, her body starting to react strongly under his touch. "This is - " 

"Sango," his voice echoed into her ear once again, and she gasped at the warmth. "Say it. Tell me this is over. I want to hear it from you." 

She angled her head into his hand as it raked through her hair, exposing the line of her neck that he couldn't help but kiss. 

"I can't say it," she whimpered. "But - " she sucked in a breath. "I'm with Takeda now." 

Her skin was simply cold and wet as he let go of her, leaving her shivering and weak-kneed. 

"Do you want to be with him?" 

Her shoulders slumped, her fingers twisted around the chain hanging from her neck. 

It was like slow motion as lightning flashed above them, the grey sky a pallid and muddled backdrop against a torrent of rain. 

"I was always ready to come back, Sango. Are you?" 

She almost slipped as she spun on her heels, water splashing below her and all over them, and she fell into his arms, breathing in sharply as they instinctively tightened around her. 

"Miroku," she sighed into the front of his wet shirt. "Miroku." 

His fingers ran through the thick mass of wet hair on her head and she closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. Heavy drops of water fell upon her face, and she somewhere in the back of her head her mind registered the slow circles his thumb traced on her cheekbone. 

That feeling. He was looking right at her. His other hand pushed her bangs back and his mouth pressed against her forehead in a chaste kiss. 

She opened her eyes. 

He pulled back from her, and in the reflection of his gaze, she could see herself. A flushed, shivering young woman with tangled, darkened hair. Her expression was naked, raw, and vulnerable, everything she had come to be; reflected so clearly back at her. 

"I'm not . . . I'm not -" She gasped again as a lone finger passed over her lips. 

"Yes?" he prompted, trailing his hand down her throat to feel the cold metal of the ring situated there. 

She stopped him, placing her hands atop his and gripping them tightly. They squeezed hers back. 

She could feel hot tears mix with cold rain as both poured down her face. Bringing his hands to her mouth, she pressed her lips to the jut of his knuckles. 

"I'm not happy," she whispered into their clasped hands, her breath warming them briefly. 

"Why is that, Sango? Living in the past?" 

"Why do you say that, Miroku? You - you try and get me to say that I want it to be over between us, to convince me we need to try again, and now that we're together like this, you tell me I need to move on," she burst in frustration, her rough, bitten fingernails digging into the back of his hands. 

"I don't want to be the one that prevents you from being happy Sango. That's all I ever wanted for you." 

"I can't be - I can't be happy Miroku. I can't just . . ." 

She dropped his hands and reached up to hesitantly touch the side of his face. 

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice deep and cracking. " If it's about him - " 

"It's not about him," Sango interrupted, now purely incapable of stopping herself. "It's about you." 

She had succeeded in drawing his face down lower until their breaths mingled and she could see the raindrops dripping from his chin. 

"Sango . . . I - " 

_I'm taking what I can get._

His lips were bruising, and water flowed all around them, nature echoing their relentlessness and frustration. She fought him, to dominate, to be in control, to _lead_. Angling her head sharply, she caught his tongue in her mouth and pressed her own against it, winding her arms tightly around his neck. 

"He's - he doesn't make me feel - " she heard herself moan against him. 

She felt her body suddenly jerked around so quickly that she stumbled, but his free arm was there to catch her and lower their heads beneath the roof of his car. The collision of the rain upon them ceased, and instead the drumming of the water against the metal surrounded them. 

Her mouth opened again as she sucked in a breath, his hand that had supported her waist now travelling the length of her leg. He used the opportunity to once again steal her breath with his kisses, trailing them along her jaw line as she arched when his touch threatened to bring her skirt above her hips. 

He pulled away again, his fingers brushing at the bluntly cut bangs clinging to her cheek, her eyes glazed as she pulled at the front of his shirt, made nearly sheer by the water that marred it. She was impatient, and her fingers fumbled. 

"God, Miroku," she muttered, hoping she didn't sound as desperate as she felt. "I can't take this anymore." 

The buttons on her own shirt hadn't yet been properly fixed, and promptly gave with nothing but a sharp tug from him. She could feel the coolness of water droplets tracing paths down her chest as they fell from his hair, and he followed them down with his mouth. 

"Sango," he breathed between kisses, "Sango." All he said was her name. 

Everything around her blurred, and she couldn't think straight. She didn't care that she was in a parking lot, splayed across the backseat of Miroku's car as he ravished her, their clothes messily pulled open as best as they could manage whilst blinded by passion and something else, lust perhaps, their bodies damp and their hair dripping wet. 

The dull pounding of rain falling around them lessened her grip of what surrounded her, and all she knew was him, touching her face, her hair, her body; him, subjected to her frustrations and anger. Him, the man that had been her world. 

He still was. 

And she ached. She hungered, _starved_ for this. He had been the aggressor for far too long, and she was tired of being talked about, worried about. Right now, she didn't want a reason for anything she was doing. 

She was the dominator, she was not a coward that let other men force themselves on her to quell their self-satisfaction. Miroku wanted her, she wanted him, here and now, and she would take him, until she had had her fill and was left to face the aftermath of her actions. 

But that was after. 

Roughly, she pulled his face up to hers and crushed their mouths together harshly, biting his bottom lip and trailing her tongue across it. She was so filled with need, a need that only intensified as she swung a leg around his waist, pressing him against her harder. 

She couldn't remember the last time it had been like _this. _The last time she was incapable of control, her emotions dictating her movements; her actions, almost _feral_ in nature. 

It was so cold outside, and together, they were radiating heat, and she wanted to relieve that heat, because if she didn't, she feared she may explode. 

His lips raised from where they had been lingering on her chest, and she gave him a desperate look, her eyes no longer calm. She was panting and she shifted impatiently, urging him to continue. 

"Shit. Sango, I'm sorry." 

"Shut up Miroku," she responded, trying to claim his mouth so that he would do so. 

"Can't you hear that? Someone's coming. Do you really want someone to see us like this?" He sounded so strained. 

Biting her bottom lip, she shook her head slowly. He slid away from her, and from her limited view she saw him turn around and lean heavily on the roof. She heard muffled swearing. 

She leaned her head back, staring at the slate interior of his car and inhaling deeply. After had had to come so fast. 

_What have I done?_

There was low rumble above her and bright lights flashed through the windows. A car door slammed, and a pair of footsteps splashing through puddles were prominent. 

"Where is she?" the angry voice of none other than Takeda Kuranosuke demanded. 

In a panic, Sango pulled her skirt back down to cover herself, and struggled to find a way to hold her torn shirt together. 

A muffled sound of protest, and Takeda's concerned face appeared in her line of sight. 

"Sango-san? What are you doing? Did he hurt you?" 

She raised her hand to her mouth, automatically beginning to nibble on her nails, and shaking her head vigorously. 

He ducked his head back out of the car and he heard him shouting again. "If you did anything to her, you bastard, I'll have you indicted and thrown in prison!" 

Miroku said nothing. 

Holding her shirt closed, Sango adjusted herself to a proper seated position and argued back, somewhat timidly. "Takeda-kun, please calm down. I wasn't feeling well and I asked Miroku if I could lie down for a minute." 

His mouth pursed and he gripped her shoulders, pulling her out of the car into a standing position. 

She was careful to keep her arms crossed in front of her as though she were warming herself, and waited anxiously as his eyes lingered on her flushed face and tangled, matted hair, swollen lips and lastly settling on the chain that was wound about her fingers as she tugged on it nervously. 

Saying nothing, he slung his arm around her and walked around Miroku to his own car, opening the door and settling Sango inside, which she complied to in silence. She was a puppet once again. He closed the door, turning back to Miroku. 

"Stay away from her," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. 

Her skin still burned and her entire body shook, and she would give anything to be anywhere else. 

-- 

- 

_So turn up the corners of your lips  
Part them and feel my finger tips  
Trace the moment, fall forever  
_


	8. She Makes Me Wait

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha and Dashboard Confessional

(10/16/04)

**A/N:** Feel horrible, not a good week, got in trouble at work, no sleep, so let's get right into it. Picked the reviews that needed something specifically addressed or were amusing. **Abbykat, **regarding Sango I have been taking it to the extreme, that's my fault. The story is already complete and in post-reconstruction, so I hope that the remainder will not turn you off. As for Kuranosuke, I have my reasons, and all I can hope is that you have faith in me. **Lily Thorne **&** Chocolatechipp**, thanks a lot for the reviews. Since no one reads my disclaimers I put the song and lyrics at the end of the chapters underneath the selection in hopes they will be noticed. **OhJoy**, **FlamingRedFox,**man I have ruined all of Takeda's credibility as a character, lol. I have my own cleaver in which I butcher canon personalities...**faltering**, you know I always appreciate the de-lurking. I'd love to hear the theories. **Starzki**, wow, I really do not deserve that. Not at all. Thanks everyone.

Story written for **Katrina5**.

* * *

--

-

_"Hi Kohaku-kun!" Kagome said cheerfully as he opened the door for her. "Is your sister home?"_

_"Uh, yeah, she's upstairs," Kohaku said sleepily, stifling a yawn as he shuffled up the stairs. "I'll just go and get her. Come on in."_

_He came back down minutes later with his hands over his face._

_"Kohaku-kun," Kagome spoke up with slight concern as she slipped off her shoes. "What's up? You seem really tired."_

_Raking his fingers down his cheeks so his eyelids sagged, he groaned. "I hardly got any sleep last night."_

_"And why is that?" she asked, trying to suppress her giggles. _

_He stared at her blankly. " Ane-ue was screaming all night long. I thought she was possessed. The floor was bloody shaking."_

_"Oh," Kagome stammered, her shoulders quivering with withheld laughter. "Is she okay now?"_

_Kohaku sat down on the bottom step and leaned his head against the banister. "Yeah, it's a good thing Miroku was there to perform an exorcism," he muttered with his eyes closed._

_Kagome started coughing suddenly, covering her mouth and nearly dropping her keys. "You're not serious," she choked._

_He looked up at her with a deadpan expression. "Do I look serious to you?"_

_"He's wasn't _hurtin_g her, Kohaku," she said with a wink._

_"Don't patronize me Kagome-san," Kohaku sighed, shaking his head. "If you lived here, you'd be reduced to a wandering zombie as well, left to quiver under your covers at night."_

_"I see," Kagome said seriously, though her eyes were twinkling. She ruffled Kohaku's hair. "You'll get used to it."_

_He rolled his eyes. "I should hope not."_

_"Ah, here she is," Kagome announced as Sango rushed down the stairs clutching Kirara, apparently not noticing her shirt was inside out._

_"Good morning Kagome-chan," she greeted, hugging the girl firmly. "How are you?"_

_"Oh, just fine," Kagome answered, bouncing on the balls of her feet . "I brought you your prescription. What's it for again?"_

_Sango glanced around nervously before taking the small white bag from Kagome and holding it tightly. "Thanks." She started to blush. "It's my . . . birth control," she mouthed._

_Kagome glanced at her friend mischievously. "I see. Heard you were . . . ah - quite the noisy one last night."_

_Sango's eyes widened, and she flushed before recovering and grinning back at Kagome in abashment. "Oh yes, I was embarrassed to take out the trash this morning. I had no idea I was so loud. But only because a bee - er, stung me," she added quickly._

_"Mm-hmm," Kagome nodded in agreement. "It was all worth it in the end, right? I mean, the painful recovery from a bee sting."_

_"What was worth what in the end?" Miroku asked, now making his way down the staircase to greet the visitor. He pressed a kiss to the side of Sango's head and whispered something in her ear, her jaw slowly dropping._

_"Kagome-chan!" she burst in embarrassment as he stood beside them, grinning. "Why didn't you say anything about my shirt?"_

_"Oh that? I didn't really notice," Kagome said in a singsong voice, a knowing smile on her mouth. "You didn't seem to mind."_

_"And you!" Sango now rounded on Miroku. "You could have said something too!"_

_"Actually, I didn't really notice as you left either. You were trying to dress too fast. I warned you it only works the other way around." He shrugged as visible annoyance began to show in her features. "So technically, I _did_ say something."_

_Miroku shuffled away, poking around in a closet. "I'm going to vacuum," he announced._

_Kagome looked at Sango oddly and she laughed. "Don't ask, he takes out the vacuum to avoid punishments because he _claims_ he can't hear me talking. He does a good job, so I might as well let him."_

_"Sango-chan, life with you must be extremely interesting, to say the least."_

_Sango smiled widely. "It works. For once . . . I think I'm not that far off from being_ really_ happy."_

_Kohaku looked up at her from where he sat on the steps, staring at the tag hanging off the back of her shirt, to the visible seams, to the forgotten white bag in her hand_.

What's stopping you?

**--**

**-**

**Any Given Someday**

Chapter Eight

_She Makes Me Wait_

-

--

"Kohaku, what's wrong?" Sango tried again as they neared another stop sign. "Come on, you've been odd all weekend. Aren't you excited about the school trip?"

"Maybe," he said listlessly, staring out the window.

"It's an overnight, right? You've been waiting for this for a while."

No response.

"I'll miss you."

He jumped as she pulled over sharply, throwing on the break lights of Kuranosuke's car.

"What are you doing? I'm going to be late!"

"I'm not moving this car again until you tell me what's been up with you!" she contravened, turning off the ignition.

His eyes closed and his lips were turned down in a frown as he shook with withheld emotion. "I should be asking you that question."

She turned around to give him a hard stare. "Why -"

"Why what, Ane-ue! Why are we in _his_ car? Why is he in _our_ house? Why are you being so freaking stubborn?"

"Kohaku!" she exclaimed in shocked disbelief. "Don't speak to me like that!"

"It's true though!" he argued, straining against his seatbelt. "You've lost it!"

"Stop it," she said coldly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know as well as I do what I'm talking about," her brother hissed, his eyes narrowed. "You're only hurting yourself by doing this."

"Doing what?" Sango asked, though she'd already began to bite on her fingernails.

He shook his head. "By . . . by letting him think you actually want to be with him. I heard Ane-ue. I heard every damn word. I can't believe you," he finished in an incredulous tone.

"You're the one that told me to get it together!" Sango argued. This was so foolish. She was supposed to be the patient adult yet here she was, squabbling with her younger brother. "I'm doing this for you!"

"Ane-ue, I don't know who or what you're trying to prove yourself to, but it sure isn't me. I mean, it's one thing if I don't like him and you do, but when you don't . . ."

"Kohaku, you'll see. I'm doing the right thing. You're just angry now, but - "

"I'm not angry," he said in a sombre tone. "I'm disappointed."

Taking a deep breath, he faced his sister, who was gazing at him in confusion.

"This isn't about me. When I told you to pull yourself together Ane-ue, I meant I wanted you to decide what you want and who you are. I didn't want to see you so hurt anymore."

"I understand that. I'm trying -"

"You're trying to what? Ane-ue, running to him because he so happens to be there does not help. So what if he cares about you? So what if it's what father wanted? It's not what you want."

"You can't tell me what I want and what I don't want."

"Then tell me it's what you want. Tell me you want someone who thinks of you as a commodity and a prize, who thinks they can win you by promising money and riches and expensive gifts. Tell me you want him over Miroku."

He was so blunt, and it stung.

"That's not everything! He does have feelings. You're exaggerating."

"And if he does? And if I am?"

"Kohaku," she whispered, the backs of her eyes burning. "I can't go back to him."

"Why?" he shot back. "Because he hurt you? Ane-ue, why would you let something like that break you apart? Your own insecurity?"

"It hurts a lot you know. Don't you understand?"

"I understand perfectly well, Ane-ue. Besides, did you ever stop to think that you may have hurt him too?"

"Of course I have Kohaku. That's another reason. It could never be the same. Miroku and I . . ."

"It can't be the same. But it can be better."

"But," she whispered, barely able to raise her voice. "What if we . . ."

"Ane-ue, the only way it will work is if _you_ want it to work."

"I'm still not sure about how he feels . . . What if his feelings wear away?"

"They won't. I know that."

"How do you know that?"

"A few weeks ago, _I _was the one who answered the phone."

He crossed his arms and gave her a hard look before turning to stare out the window again. "You're not invincible. You're human."

With a shaking hand, she turned the keys in the ignition, and pulled into traffic to take Kohaku to the school entrance gate before the buses departed. His words haunted her the entire way back.

--

"How was the drive?" Kuranosuke asked in a cheery voice as he greeted her coming in the door.

"Oh, it was fine,' she smiled weakly. "Kohaku's really excited that it's an overnight."

"Really? Is that why he didn't want me to come?" he laughed. "Wanted to spend some time with his sister?"

"Could be." She hung up her jacket and tried to walk past him into the living room but he caught her by the shoulders.

"I was hoping that we could go out somewhere today," he informed her, smiling meaningfully.

"Oh?" she attempted to sound interested. "Where?"

"Maybe get you some new clothes, something new, things like that. Then perhaps something to eat afterward."

"Why would I need that?" she asked, slightly offended. "What I have right now is perfectly fine."

"Sango-san, you are so adorable," he chuckled, patting the top of her head. "You don't have to worry about these trivial things anymore."

She shrugged her shoulders and smiled weakly at his chest.

"We can even get you a new cat, didn't your other one die?"

"She didn't die," Sango said, annoyed. "She's with . . . she's with . . . him," she finished lamely.

"Oh," he said curtly. "I see."

"Anyway," he brightened. "Are you up for it? Or are you still feeling sick?"

"Actually . . . I don't feel like going out today," she told him. "I'm kind of tired."

"We can hang around here I suppose," he responded, disappointment evident in his tone. "I'll make you dinner, since it will just be the two of us."

_Since when did he live here?_

"Actually, I think," she sighed. "I think I'm going to take a nap for an hour or two."

He looked a little concerned. "Well, I guess I could always catch up on my work. You have a computer somewhere, no?"

"Upstairs, on the bedroom desk there's a laptop. The power cord should still be plugged in. Do you want to work there or down here?"

"I'll work down here, so you can sleep in your room."

"Okay," she shrugged, turning to walk past him into the kitchen. "I'll be up in a second."

They went their separate ways and she promptly filled a glass with cold water, downing half in a single gulp. The house was virtually silent, except for the noises of Kuranosuke upstairs and the wind chimes jingling in the breeze . . . Someone was at the door.

Hesitantly, she set down her glass and approached the entrance, her fingers skimming the doorknob. She knew who it was.

Opening the door a crack, she tried not to speak too loudly. "Not right now, Miroku."

Even only being able to see him through a sliver in the doorway, her body started to tingle uncontrollably.

He looked as though he were struggling to say something; his lips pursed and his posture was stiff.

"Why are you here?" she whispered desperately. "I can't talk right now."

"He's here, isn't he?" he asked, keeping his voice low. "That's okay, I just came to drop something off. "

She pulled the door open a little more, motioning for him to give it to her, whatever it was.

"You forgot your bag, first off," he said, squeezing it through the small space, where she promptly grabbed it and put it down. She tried to close the door.

"That's not all," he hissed, as the edge of the door dug into his fingers. He pushed it open slowly.

"And . . . this." He held out a small bundle of fur, squirming in his grasp.

"Kirara?" she said in surprise. "But . . . she's staying with you."

"She misses you," he said bluntly. "I can't give her the attention she needs right now. She's better off here."

She reached out and grasped the animal under the arms, and it mewed as it was held by both of them, their fingers overlapping beneath the mass of creme fur.

"You don't have to bring her back," she said even as she now cradled Kirara. "She's partly yours."

"I bought her for you, remember?"

She looked away as she held a hand to the door. "You should go now," she said softly. "You should -"

Pushing the door open, he rushed forward and pressed his mouth against hers in a searing kiss. She gasped in momentary shock and as soon as she had begun to grow excited and warm, he pulled away.

He turned around to leave, leaving Sango stunned, and Kirara began to mewl in confusion. "Shh, it's alright," Sango cooed, rubbing the cat behind the ears. "It's alright."

"Sango-san?" Kuranosuke's voice sounded behind her as he appeared at the top of the stairs. "Was someone here?"

She shut the door quickly, turning around and attempting to smile.

"Umm - "

His eyes flickered to Kirara, who was shifting restlessly in her grasp. "I thought the cat was with him?"

Clearing her throat, she tried to shake the nervousness from her voice. "She was - someone just brought her by for me."

"Who?" he asked, stepping down the stairs closer to her.

"Kagome, she's a friend from work. She picked up Kirara from Miroku and brought her over."

His expression was neutral. "I see."

Sighing, he rested a hand on her shoulder. "Sango, we need to talk."

"About what?" She twirled Kirara's tail around her finger. "I thought you need to work."

"Come on," he said, leading her into the living room. "Obviously, we need to talk about you and him," he began, pushing her into a seat. "I've been noticing . . ."

Kirara squirmed as Sango began to rake at her fur nervously. "What do you want to know?"

"Sango-san," he said seriously. "Do you still have feelings for him?"

"I . . . it hasn't been that long since we broke up, you know."

"That wasn't my question." He leaned forward and stared at her, causing her back to grow hot with pressure.

"What happened when I came to pick you up yesterday?" he asked suddenly, propping his elbows on his knees. "You were flushed. Your lipstick was smeared."

"I told you I just lay down in the back of his car for a few minutes," she lied. "I wasn't feeling well."

"And why was he ducking inside with you?"

Kirara jumped out of her lap as Sango squeezed her and the doorbell rang. She felt relief wash over her in waves as Kuranosuke gave her a penetrating stare. "Stay right here, I'll get it."

Hoping to whatever deity would listen that it wasn't Miroku, she heard a female's confused voice echo across the room.

"Hello, I'm just here to return Sango-chan's car . . . is she home?"

_Kagome_, Sango thought, her hands moving to her mouth in reflex.

"Are you Kagome?" Kuranosuke asked casually.

"Yes, I am. We work together," the young woman answered. "Who are you?"

"I'm Takeda Kuranosuke, her boyfriend."

"Nice to meet you," Kagome said uncomfortably. "Is Sango home?"

"But weren't you just here?"

Sango slumped in her chair, biting furiously at her nails.

"No? I don't think so."

"Well then, you two should talk. Sango-san," he called behind him. "Your friend is here to see you."

"Hi Kagome-chan," she greeted, shuffling her feet. "You brought my car back?"

"Yeah," Kagome said sheepishly. "It's as good as new. I hope." She handed her the keys. "I need a ride home though," she pointed out, clasping her hands. Kuranosuke looked like he sorely wanted to interrupt.

Sango opened her mouth to offer but Kagome interrupted. "Since I know you have to update the records this weekend I think that you should stay here." She help up a hand to silence her.

"But Sango, you silly girl, you didn't tell me that you had a new boyfriend! I guess he's the one that nice car outside belongs to?" she continued with an enthusiastic wink. "I'd really like to ride in it," Kagome said earnestly. "If it's okay with you . . ."

"Actually," Kuranosuke interjected, "Sango and I - "

"Kuranosuke-san," Sango said suddenly, laying a hand on his arm. She wasn't up to the interrogations just yet. "It won't take that long."

He gave her another analyzing look before turning back to Kagome with a polite smile. "Well, I suppose I could . . . let's get going, shall we?"

"Bye Sango-chan!" Kagome waved, stepping off of her porch. "Sorry about the car and all."

Sango waved back, still confused about what had just transpired. She couldn't have seen the car that turned the corner after Kuranosuke and Kagome had left.

--

A few minutes later, Sango threw the door open once again, half-expecting to see Kuranosuke, her mouth already half open to ask him why he was back already. Instead, a lean man of roughly the same height rushed forward and closed the space between them, his hands firmly clamping on to her hips and his mouth closing in on hers.

"Miroku," she said breathlessly as he pulled away. "You shouldn't be here."

"That's the third time today, Sango. Three times too many." He still held her.

"This has to stop," she whispered, flattening her hands against his chest. "I think - I think it would be for the best."

"Sango," he said, gripping her tighter. "Who was the one who flew into my arms and pulled my face to theirs, before whispering my name and trying to rip my shirt off?"

As foolish as it sounded coming from him, the words hit her somewhere near her heart. "I was being stupid, Miroku. The truth is, my feelings have been all over the place. I can't trust myself right now."

His hand gently turned her face towards him. "Neither can I."

As soon as his lips met hers she could feel her breath being stolen from her. Her hands moved across the broad expanse of his chest to grip his shoulders tightly. She drew back again, panting slightly, and half-heartedly pushed at him.

"He might come back soon."

"What are you worried about? That he'll leave you? That he'll find you with me?"

"Everything, Miroku," she sighed, turning away and wrapping her arms around herself. "Everything." Her skin was still hot from where his hands had been.

"We have some time, Sango. A little bit," he was saying softly behind her. "We need to talk."

"How do you know?" she found herself asking.

She could see him shrug out of the corner of her eye. "I ran into Kagome-san on my way out. A little time is better than nothing at all."

"So you mean - "

He cut her words short. "I - We're stuck in the past. We both say it's over yet we know we're far from it. Why would we be acting the way we are, either hating or wanting, with no line between? I . . . I gave it some time, I gave you - us, some time to think, to take a breather."

He was behind her now, pulling her hair behind her shoulder and letting it slide through his fingers. "I still love you," he whispered.

A shiver snaked through her body from her scalp to her toes and she stiffened. "I worked so hard. I threw myself into everything in my life, just to forget about you," she confessed, digging her nails into her arm to keep from biting them, or even worse, touching him.

"Now I've dug myself into a hole so deep. Now I just don't know how I feel, what to do. And I don't want to hurt you and Takeda and I might, or I will. I know it." She was speaking to herself more than anyone.

"I just wanted to . . . "

"You don't need to think about anyone else. Think about you. Be selfish for once."

"You . . . everyone is expecting something from me. Kohaku, Takeda - "

"Kohaku is your brother. He wants you to be happy. Takeda . . .I am sure he does care for you," he finished encouragingly. She lifted her chin a tiny bit, frowning.

"And you . . . I see you standing there, you want so much from me, and I just can't . . . you're the selfish one- "

"Snap out of it!" he interrupted, gripping her shoulders and giving her a gentle shake. "It's not about everyone else! You think you're confused, but you're forgetting the strength you have. You don't need anyone or anything to dictate your life. You can't continue to give yourself away like this. Hell, you can't continue like _this_ at all."

His hand gently rested under her chin, raising it before softly brushing through her bangs and smoothing back flyaway strands from her face.

"The only weakness I have is your manipulation of words!"

"Remember?" he said with a wry twist of his mouth, something like a smile but not quite. "We aren't invincible. Maybe we were once, before the first time we felt lost . . . but now we aren't."

She felt her own mouth move of its own accord and part as she bit down on her tongue.

"I can't make you do anything that you don't want to do. You have a chance to start over the right way, and move ahead to the future. Regardless of whether or not it is one that includes me, I want you to remember me as someone who still cares about you."

His voice was so _soothing_, and he sounded so_ sincere_.

"Miroku . . . I hated you because you left. You left me while you held the knowledge that something was wrong . . . but I remember, I asked you to leave. I hated you for that, for doing what I told you to do . . . "

She felt his chin moving on her shoulder as he spoke. "It was wrong, I knew it was wrong from the moment I walked out that door. It wasn't forever . . . it was never forever. I'm sorry if you thought that way."

Her arms tightened around him as though she was trying to hurt him. "Why didn't you say anything? I didn't know . . . I always . . . I thought it was nothing to you, and I wanted to prove that I could be just as cold. "

"Sango, you spoil me, do you know that? I thought . . . I thought that without words, you'd understand. It wasn't my intention . . . "

"You did nothing to show me that," she snapped.

He shook his head and shifted her away from him, resting his hands on her shoulders.

"What I ask of you is simple. Sango. I want you to try. And when you know, tell me where you want to be; with or without me. Just know . . . I couldn't promise you everything, and I still can't, but as long as you'll have me - if you will have me - I'll always be there for you."

--

-

_The harder I push the further I fall.   
Well, you don't mind me being headstrong,   
But you don't want to sing along.   
Maybe it's trite but I can always, always, always be wrong_

-Ender Will Save Us All, Dashboard Confessional


	9. Beauty In The Breakdown

(10/23/04)

**A/N: **First off, I want to say how thankful I am the people that review me enjoy criticizing me. It really _really_ helps, and I hope that one day you'll notice how much it pays off. It's just refreshing that you didn't like something, and you spoke up, and that takes real class, maturity, and oh - I'm so full of love. Anyway, on with it.

**ohJoy - **Right now it's almost 2:00 am, I really should listen to you, now shouldn't I? **Xichiathik** - I can't even remember what happens last chapter, it seems so long ago... **Aamalie - **... **Lily Thorne - **Characterization? Noo.. No, don't joke with me ) **chocolatechipp** - It's all Dashboard Confessional ) **FlamingRedFox -**What's wrong with drama? It's about all I can write. Key word: can. **RavenFireI** - I must spread the Kuranosuke love. **ScoRPion Blade - **Well thank you, it's tough love, give me lots. ) It's the only way I'll get better, right? As I've said countlessly, the story is complete, but until all of it is posted in entirety, I can't really say more about what I chose to do with Kuranosuke. Let's just say he's human. **Taishoku Kurayami, YoukaiTaijaiyaSango- **Thanks, lets see how you fare with thischapter. 3 **Starzki - **Hmm.I don't know about Kuranosuke anymore. I tried to have a change of character for all involved, but somehow, it seems to have blown up in my face. Let's just hope everyone gets out unscathed, but it is unlikely. ) Thank you very much, I enjoy reading reviews like yours. And really, remind me to review your story you posted a few weeks ago, I've been so busy and lazy, which says something about the date and time this is being updated, when it's finished already!

Anyone who is of decent age to read mild, implicative, badly-written R can e-mail me (aprill may at yahoo) for the chunk of story that is missing. You'll know which one it is.

* * *

- 

-

-

_"It's beautiful," Sango sighed as she relaxed into Miroku's arms. "Thank you."_

_"Why are you thanking me?" he replied. "I didn't make the fireworks."_

_"True, but you did bring me here, and you are part of what is making this whole moment beautiful."_

_"So are you saying I'm beautiful?" he asked smugly, preening. "A beautiful man. Imagine that."_

_She turned her head to bury her face in his shoulder and he could feel her laugh, warm, rich and relaxed, like ripples through hot chocolate. "Another year is gone."_

_He eased the side of his head to rest on top of hers. "It was a good year. Am I right?"_

_He felt her smile. "I suppose you could say that."_

_Shifting, he held her face in his hands and kissed her, her body slowly slackening. As he pulled away, she was blushing. Now _this_ was beautiful._

_"Do you think they'd let us go around again?" Sango asked in a hopeful voice, winking at him. _

_"Tsk tsk Sango, what about the children?"_

_"Oh, there are only about a hundred other cars on this Ferris wheel. More, I think," she pointed out. "The children can wait."_

_"I sure hope so."_

_She let her fingers trace little circles on his knee. "Please?" _

_As they descended and the little gate opened to let them out and others in, he winked at the female attendant and tucked a few notes into her shirt pocket._

_"Miroku," Sango said flatly, folding her arms away as he turned back to her. "You didn't have to stick your hand in her pocket like that."_

_"I was merely being discreet."_

_"How is shoving money into her chest pocket being discreet?"_

_"It's the only pocket I could find without a more - thorough - search."_

_"You're silly," she chided, pinching his leg where she had been touching it earlier. He took her wrist and pulled her to him._

_The Ferris wheel began to ascend again and another shower of fireworks lit up the sky, just as their car grazed the topmost point of the ride. _

_"Miroku . . . " she mumbled, nestled under the curve of his chin again. "I've . . . I . . . damn, I don't know how to say this."_

_He twisted a few strands of her hair between his fingers, amused. "Would you like me to go first?"_

_She craned her neck up at him. "If you want to, yes."_

_"Well," he began, leaning his head back and looking up at the glowing sky that felt so near. "I think we're quite serious now."_

_"No, we aren't," Sango replied sarcastically. "You just lounge around my house all the time because you leech off my utilities."_

_"Utilities . . . amongst other things," he grinned, squeezing her bottom. She grabbed his hand away and held it. "You have very nice utilities."_

_She gave him a reprimanding look, ensuring much punishment later when they were in a more . . . private place. "Continue, please. What else? Flatter me."_

_"Sango," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "I've had my share of relationships in the past . . . and I was hit with a sudden thought; they pale in comparison to you. Although some were pretty good," he added as an afterthought._

_Her hands toyed with the buttons on his shirt. "And?" she asked breathlessly. It was a stupid thing to say, 'and,' but he never failed at stealing her sense of awareness away._

_"Still Sango, I have . . . I have intentions for us. And not just dirty ones either. I've never been one to commit . . . and I always thought I had some sort of relationship complex. Lately, I've been thinking that I was really just waiting for you."_

_She didn't answer, just rearranged herself on his lap to hold him closer. He held her at arms length, staring clear into her eyes._

_"Sango, I'm going to give you a ring."_

_Her heart skipped a beat, she started panicking and her right hand twitched as she longed to bite on her nails. _

_"Miroku, I -"_

_"I know you're not ready. I'm not ready either. It's not anything like you're thinking. I may be being serious now, but you know me better than that," he said with a slight grin._

_He held her face between her hands again. _

_"I want it to mean that you're accepting me as part of your life now. Not just the guy who revels in your utilities from time to time. I think . . . I know that I want you to have something physical, something to remind you that I'm _there_, and always will be, even if . . ." He took a deep breath. "Even if we don't last."_

_She choked on her tongue a little as she pressed tiny, frantic kisses all over his face; underneath his bangs, the corners of his eyelids, the sensitive spot where his jawbone met his ear, because she . . . she couldn't give him words._

_His hands slid up her body and over her shoulders, and she felt the coolness of the thin chain as he clasped it around her neck._

_"I love you," he breathed into her hair. "You're the one."_

_She couldn't help the icy prickle of guilt that ran up her spine. _

_"What did you want to say?"_

_Staring at him in a daze, she shook herself back to reality and smiled gently. "I feel the same way . . . and I hope . . . I hope I'll - we'll be ready soon."_

--

-

**Any Given Someday**

Chapter Nine

_Beauty In The Breakdown_

-

--

She could feel his muscles tense beneath her fingers and she knew that enough time had passed for him to become nervous. Her nails dug into his skin through his shirt and she pushed at him.

"Go."

He tried to push his lips against hers but she stopped him with her fingers against his mouth. He grabbed her hand and kissed it, before leading himself in acquiescence to her door.

She turned away and leaned against the wall, because she didn't want to see him go. Just like last time.

"Fancy meeting you here."

Her blood ceased to flow in her veins.

"You should have told me we were expecting visitors, Sango darling."

The two men were standing directly in front of one another, nearly eye level.

"Why are you here?" Kuranosuke asked in an icy tone.

"To see the owner of the home," Miroku shrugged casually. "We have a history."

"I'm well aware of that."

"So, I think," he threw a glance back at Sango. "I was about to leave."

"Not just yet," the other man threw out a hand to stop him. "I wanted to ask you a few more questions."

"Shoot."

"You know she still hasn't - she's in no condition to . . . why do you do this to her?" he exploded, despite Sango watching him anxiously behind Miroku.

"I'm sorry, what am I doing?" Miroku asked coolly, staring at him.

"She didn't ask you to come here, I know it. You're toying with her. You always did."

"You don't know the half of it." He smirked, eyes narrowed, and Kuranosuke's face twitched in an effort to remain calm..

"Get out."

"Excuse me, what was I trying to do before you came in here and demanded I answer questions?"

"You sarcastic, unfaithful jackass," he spat, taking a step closer to him. "I don't know what the hell you did in a past life to deserve to have Sango for so long. Did you care about her at all?."

Something like anger flashed across Miroku's face. "Neither do I, but don't you ever, _ever_ imply that I didn't care about Sango."

"You did?" It was Kuranosuke's turn to smirk. "You know, right? You knew about Sango . . . or you didn't, until you found out by accident And what did you do? Leave her. She didn't deserve that. You're too late."

"You think she's any happier with you?"

"If you weren't showing your face around here, reminding her of everything, then yes, she wouldn't have to go through all you put her through over and over again. She wouldn't have to resort to _slumming._"

"No, slumming would be if she had to use you as a last resort." He looked around him as though he just realized where he was. "Which she is! Coincidence?"

Sango let out a small cry as Kuranosuke's fist collided Miroku's jaw, throwing his head back sharply. He staggered, touching his lip gingerly and checking for blood.

"Say, Sango, he's husband material."

He ducked aside to avoid Kuranosuke's second attempt at a hit, faintly hearing him snarling something about 'only hitting bastards'. Sango was screaming at them in the background, but her cries were distant as Miroku realized that he really wanted to hit the guy as well.

And hit him he did.

Kuranosuke reeled back, clutching his face. "Asshole."

"I'd rather she was happy and slumming than miserable and living with a pampered, rich daddy's boy that thinks he's the solution to all the world's problems. Sango doesn't need to sit on your bed like a doll that needs to be taken care of."

There were welts forming around Kuranosuke's eye, and he attempted a retaliation punch. It connected.

"I want the best for Sango," he said in a quiet voice. "I've wanted the best for her for a long time. And I've watched, knowing . . . knowing that behind the happiness she showed, there was something else. It was devastating . . . for me to know and be unable to do a thing."

He checked to see if he was bleeding and placed a hand gingerly on his face.

"What did you do when you found out," he spat, panting. "You left her to be alone."

"Will you two fucking stop it?" Sango demanded, standing between them as the room grew deathly still. "What the hell is wrong with you? The both of you!"

Both of their harsh breathing filled the short silence as she stood there, her eyes squeezed shut and her hands outstretched to stop Kuranosuke from coming any closer.

"This isn't the time," she snapped. "I don't want to hear any more."

She opened her eyes slowly, not glaring but giving him a pleading look.

"This isn't the time to talk about this."

He dropped his hands slowly, staring at the woman who'd agreed just days ago that she'd commit herself to him. He remembered his stinging face, and for her, he complied with her orders.

"Think about this, Sango-san," he paused at the door before leaving.

There was a slight shudder throughout the house as the door slammed shut, the pealing of the wind chimes punctuating his actions.

Miroku slackened from leaning against the wall, and crumpled to the ground, touching his lip again and smiling darkly as red tinted his skin.

"And you!" she rounded on him. "You had no right to say those things!"

She fell to her knees beside him, drawing a long breath and massaging her temples. "What the hell just happened?" she muttered.

Something like a chuckle emitted from his throat. "I think it was pretty obvious."

"You exchanged a few insults as if I wasn't in the room, in full view, and then started throwing punches at each other?" she offered in sarcasm.

"The things men do for you."

She bit her lower lip for a few seconds before reverting back to her nails. "That's not funny."

"Was it meant to be?"

An awkward silence built around them as they contemplated what had just transpired.

"Why did you send him out?"

Sango looked up, her thumbnail still between her teeth, and made an incoherent sound.

"Well?" he looked towards her, the corners of his lips turned up slightly, raw and bleeding.

"Because, because . . . I - " she tried helplessly. "Let me get something for your lip."

She stood shakily and rushed into the kitchen to run a towel under cold water. Kneeling back beside him, she hesitantly raised her hand to his face, and gingerly pressed the cold cloth against his mouth.

"Sorry I don't have an ice pack or anything," she murmured. Her face was so close his ear. "I meant to pick one up that time Kohaku had a sore knee, but . . ."

"Afraid of seeing me?" he asked cheekily, his mouth shifting under the cloth.

"No, not that," she denied, uncomfortable. "I never had time."

She moved her hand a little to absorb the little splotch of blood near his chin. "Your nose is bleeding too," she noted. "I'll get you a tissue. You sit here and pinch it."

As she stood up to leave he pinched her.

"Pervert," she snapped, but she couldn't help but let a tiny ghost of a smile flit across her face.

"Has the bleeding stopped?" she called to him as she rinsed a used towel, entranced in watching the red tinted water swirling down the drain.

"Mostly."

Sango jumped involuntarily at how close his voice was. "You shouldn't walk around. At least sit, or . . . or go home, or something," she said weakly, closing her eyes and rubbing the cloth vigorously between her hands.

"I'm going to leave."

_Good. He should leave._

Those thoughts were riddled from her mind as he kissed her, the faint coppery taste of blood evident on his mouth. As soon and as abrupt as it had began, it was over.

She didn't watch him go.

--

The house was vastly different when Kohaku was away. There was absolutely no one. For the few moments that Miroku had been here . . . it almost felt _full_ again, despite the circumstances.

She smirked and her lip twisted, suddenly remembering what the house _was _like when Kohaku was away. Let's just say their freedom had been less . . . limited with his absence.

_Drink up._

A thin stream of vodka trickled down her throat, searing, and she slammed the shot glass on the counter.

Deciding against sprawling out on the bed or the couch, she settled for pushing the coffee table aside and lying on the floor. The firm hardwood beneath her back kept her from drifting into sleep, and Kirara sauntered over, draping herself across her stomach as a warm weight.

Alone, solitary and slightly inebriated, she would finally be able to let herself _think_ about what had happened.

She could hear him again, asking her all those questions, cutting her words off with a single comeback of his own. Now, she could piece together her answers, because even though she knew he would wait, she wanted to give them both peace of mind.

_"You never said don't go."_

'Because I didn't want to make you stay. I wanted you to stay with me . . . but I was embarrassed and stupid. I thought you wouldn't want me anymore after what happened.

_"You think I lie, Sango? You think I keep things from you? Don't you remember?"_

'I was the one that lied to you. I lied, and I was sorry, but I couldn't change, I couldn't give up my addictions, not just yet; and even though you said you'd be here for me, it's something I wanted to do alone.'

_"Why are you trying to hard to say goodbye?"_

'I was trying because I thought it would happen naturally. Friends have always said that, yes, they thought they were in love but it burned out, it died down, and they moved on. I thought that that was what would happen to us, but still, I loved you, I needed you. It scared me, still needing you the way I did, when I thought it should have been over. The truth is . . . it never faded, the feelings were always there, still so strong, and the reason that we even separated wasn't because of that. It was something just as simple yet elusive. Broken trust . . . false promises . . . lies.'

_"I wanted to be someone you'd be proud to have around you."_

_"You were."_

_"Was I?"_

By this time the alcohol had taken the effect she desired and her thoughts began to wander. She wasn't drunk, just relaxed enough that her mind was open, and she wasn't reduced to lying to herself and messing up her own thoughts.

'Miroku . . . you _were_ someone I was proud to be with. Most people love you, Kohaku loved you, I loved you. You had this natural charm, you drew people to you, and yes, that included women. I was . . . I always felt as though I was average, just another faceless entity in the crowd, and that you chose me. Why, I don't know. We _found _one another in that crowd and I was _someone_.'

_"Do you want to be with him?"_

'Kuranosuke . . .' she smiled ruefully to herself. 'Kuranosuke Takeda, a graduate with a degree in business administration and a bright future. A nice man, handsome, young and opportunistic, and hell, I've never met anyone more devoted. He cares a great deal, always did. And even now . . . I'm still not sure about what he truly feels . . . '

'It was nothing like what I thought of you, nothing like how you made me _feel. _And I said it, that day. I said that he wasn't like you and I wasn't lying. I've lied to you before, I turned away when you offered me stability . . . at the end, I couldn't let myself trust enough to accept you fully.'

'We lied to each other, we were ignorant of each other. We reached a breaking point and everything spilled out at once. I still hated you for making that choice . . . in reality, it probably did make me stronger; it allowed me to handle certain things . . .'

_"I can't make you do anything that you don't want to do. You have a chance to start over the right way, and have a good future."_

'You can't, but you tried. I know you did. I hardly gave you a chance. I was too busy wrapped up in my faults, too defensive and too damn self-absorbed to see that you would love me unconditionally. I just couldn't stop comparing myself to everyone else. I have been trying . . . My will was renewed, for your sake, even though it should have broken to pieces when you left the way you did. I never did tell you not to go.'

'And for some reason, on that day . . .'

She closed her eyes and once more, she was whisked away to the past, where she giggled and shivered as they rolled around in packing styrofoam and bubble wrap. They were content and comfortable as they were, and she remembered thinking at that moment that she wouldn't trade this for the world.

--

Sango wasn't that much of a reckless driver; definitely not as bad as Inuyasha but a little more irritable than Miroku behind the wheel, but she seriously thought she might kill someone if they unwittingly stepped off the sidewalk.

_Two lights past the corner where hoodlums stole the street sign._

The sound of the windshield wipers would be enough to lull anyone to sleep at this time of night, but she was alert and jittery, occasionally taking a hand off the wheel to chew on the end of which ever finger still had nail growing out of it.

_Right turn where you see a rusty park bench. You were embarrassed when I kissed you there because it was a public place._

She turned in, swerving her car diagonally into a parking space, leaving the car next to her minuscule space to squeeze between the two vehicles, nor room to open the door on the driver's side.

Stuffing her keys in her pocket, she left everything else of importance on the seat in her haste.

Her fingers shook as they hovered over the numbers on the intercom. No, she didn't need to warn him in advance. For once, she wanted to have the advantage.

The short elevator ride was the longest one she'd ever had in her life, though not as long as the few good minutes she stood in front of his door with her hand raised.

Her fist stopped inches from his door as it swung open. He didn't look surprised to see her, or excited in the least. Instead, his mouth tightened and he forced a polite smile on his face.

"Sango," he cleared his throat. "Did you forget - "

What he asked her if she forgot, she never did find out. All she knew was that the lines she had rehearsed in the car had no vanished from her memory, and the words that spilled from her lips were raw, unfiltered, a muddled blur and the _truth._

"Miroku," she gripped the collar of her shirt to keep from reaching out to him. "I've thought about me . . . us, about everything. And - and . . . " her voice was an anxious sigh. "I'm the one who couldn't give you everything, I'm the one who lied."

His face was an expressionless mask. She had hoped to detect a hint of something more, a tiny clue to what he was _feeling_ behind that empty stare.

Seeing as how he refused to show any sign of hearing her, she continued on recklessly, all formalities forgotten.

"I - Even after all the time . . . all the chances you've given me, I'm unsure. It hurts my head, my heart, my entire body to think about it."

"You need more time?" she heard him say softly.

"We both do. But that's not why I'm here." She pinched her leg to try and stop it from convulsing.

_Leave your things behind, it's all going on without you._

"We can take all the time in the world, but the words, the thoughts between us, they can't last forever. Even now, I'm not sure if _us_ . . . will even work. We can't pin the blame on one another . . . it was both of us."

He crossed his own arms, his eyes dark as though someone had drawn curtains behind them.

"If that's all - "

"I'm not finished yet," she cut in immediately. "When I - we - in the parking lot that day, I wasn't thinking. I wasn't thinking about what would happen, how I would feel afterwards, I stripped away all my insecurities and at that moment, you were what I wanted."

Hesitantly, she took a step closer to him. "I feel that way now . . ."

He opened his mouth to answer but now she had said too much, and the words wouldn't stop coming. "I ignored what I felt, for so long. But at what price? Miroku, you say you couldn't give me everything . . . give me . . ."

Her fingers left her mouth where they had been tracing her lips and moved to touch the side of his face.

"Give me tonight."

His left hand rose to grab her wrist and hold it loosely between them. "Sango . . . I don't want to push you into something you'll regret - "

A sharp, bitter laugh rose from her throat. "Have you been listening to me at all, Miroku? I want this. I'll take -_ we'll have_ - what we want."

"I wasn't the solution then, I won't be now. And you're in a relationship."

"Shut up. Forget it. I'll forget about it. I'll even forget about that woman who was hanging out with you that time I called."

_It's not like I didn't run to another in order to escape._

She entwined their fingers and drew her other hand down his shoulder, bringing his right hand around her waist. Letting go, it automatically tightened as she pushed at the back of his neck. He looked like he wanted to argue.

"Nothing is free in this world. Everything comes at a price, I know that," she whispered, parting her lips as her breathing quickened. They suddenly felt so _dry_.

Inside, there was little piece of her that was still so angry and confused about what he did.

"And right now I don't know, I don't care - about anything - I just need _you_."

_Are you in or are you out?_

--

She still wasn't home yet.

He was starting to get nervous.

Not because she could be hurt, or lost, or abducted . . . no, it wasn't that.He knew that Sango was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, though he'd be hard pressed to show it. She was a petite young woman, and he treated her as such. He was traditional, was that such a crime?

Despite her initial discomfort of being smothered, she'd still been gracious to him. She agreed to become exclusive with him! That meant something right? Of course it did.

He had a spare set of keys. Somewhere in the short time they'd been together he'd manage to get his hands on them.

Her set was gone.

Her home was quaint. He had hoped he'd be able to move her from here and to a wonderful mansion in the heart of the city. Wasn't that what she wanted? Success? Women loved beautiful, overindulgent, extravagant things.

His feet carried him up the stairs, and he had stopped in front of the door to the bedroom, his hand on the knob. Hesitating at first, then setting his jaw in resolve, he swung the door open and absorbed the scene before him.

It was spotless. Nothing seemed out of place or awkward. Moving to stand next to her bed, he ran his fingers along the surface of a beside table, holding his fingers up to his face to inspect the thick layer of dust that now coated them.

Sunlight filtered into the room, softened by sheer curtains that were dusty as though they hadn't been released from their bindings in a while.

Picture frames were face down.

Gingerly, he grasped the edge of one and turned it upwards.

_Well, what did I think it would be?_

Her, his Sango, and _him_. That man, not unlike any other he had ever seen. He was average, mediocre, normal -- and he was Takeda Kuranosuke. What he really wanted to know was why. Why him, Sango? How can he be better?

He wouldn't do what Miroku did, which was absolutely nothing.

Dropping the frame back face down, he was compelled to throw open her closet doors, which he did. He pulled them back with such force that the clothing inside shuddered.

There was about an inch of a cardboard box visible from an upper ledge. He reached for it.

When it had gotten along far enough for him to physically grasp it, he pulled it down and it slipped through his fingers, heavier than he had anticipated.

Pictures, letters, jewellery, every imaginable knick knack in existence sprayed from where the box lay on its side, as though it was trying to mock him. He kicked it aside.

Walking away, he nearly slipped on an eight by ten of the couple at what appeared to be the beach. He shook his head and kicked that too; it rose and flipped over. He wasn't satisfied. There were more, hundreds more, some with both of them in focus, some with just one. Some were indistinguishable but so flesh toned it nearly made him sick.

So much time; _so many memories_.

He held a film coated photo between his fingers.

_I had waited so long for the time that I would be able to be with you, Sango. I tried my hardest to become such a man that would make any woman happy._

_Shame I could never do that for you._

_But maybe I can._

_I haven't given up yet._

--

-

_I'm missing your bed  
I never sleep  
Avoiding the spots where we'd have to speak,  
And this bottle of beast,  
Is taking me home_

_-- _Dashboard Confessional, Screaming Infidelities


	10. The Fallout

_Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha/ Dashboard Confessional_

(10/24/04)

**A/N: ****ohJoy -** I'm starting to think that you're the one that stays up late alot. You're always the first one to review, lol. Watch, as soon as I post this, I'll wait ten minutes, refresh my inbox, and you'll have reviewed already.**Aamalie** - And I quote, "you are detested." **Lily Thorne** - Good writing? Why are you reading this then? **Amethyst Fluff**- Who hasn't had the urge to snoop before? **Iggy04**- Curse my dumbing down of the characters!**chocolatechipp, Lady Sango 7 - **I've been so busy too! Thanks for reviewing and finding time to do so. **Starzski** - Ah not the reason. Prepare to be disappointed! But you have faith in me, and for that, I love you. **eef** - That has to be best short review ever. Thank you!

And lots of love to **Katrina5**, the entire reason for this story, and **Wendy**, my official muse (now that I know what those are).

Okay everyone. PREPARE TO BE DISAPPOINTED!

-- May

* * *

_-_

_-_

_"You knew about this, Kohaku?"_

_The little bottle slid across the table and fell into the boy's lap while Miroku paced in front of him._

_"Yes," he said tiredly. "I knew ever since she was prescribed them."_

_"She . . . she told you not to tell me, didn't she." It wasn't a question. Kohaku wasn't looking at him. _

_Miroku raked his fingernails down his cheek, making a frustrated sound. "How long?"_

_" I - I . . . she -"_

_"Don't answer," he made a motion as if to sweep the boy's stammered beginnings of a sentence aside. "I don't want to be the one to make you answer."_

_"But . . . Miroku-san," Kohaku said timidly as a faint chiming was heard outside the door. "It wasn't all because of you. Ane-ue . . . has never been happier."_

_"Hello," Sango said cheerfully as she slipped off her shoes and dropped her bag by the stairs. She walked into the kitchen and twined her arms around Miroku's neck, leaning in to kiss him. _

_He returned it briefly before pulling back and giving her a weak smile. Her arms dropped to her sides. "What's going on?" she asked in slight concern. "Did something happen?" She turned around to look at Kohaku, whose head was bent in guilt. _

_"Ane-ue," he whispered. She bent lower to hear him, laying a hand on his back. "Kohaku? What's wrong?"_

_He shrugged his shoulders violently and she withdrew her hand. He stood up so quickly that the chair nearly fell over backwards at the force from the back of his knees._

_"You should have told him."_

_The little bottle slammed soundly on the table before he turned around and soundlessly walked up the stairs._

_When he was out of sight, she didn't have to look back at the bottle to know what it was. "Miroku . . . I'm - I'm sorry."_

_"What are you apologizing for, Sango?" There was virtually no emotion in his words. Or at least, it sounded that way._

_"I didn't tell you -- "_

_His hand was pressed against his temple as he leaned heavily against the counter behind him. "I don't get it Sango. Please . . . just explain it to me. Please."_

_"Ask me. Ask me anything."_

_"Are they . . . "_

_She took a deep breath, her back suddenly warm. _

_"I was put onto antidepressants when I was nineteen. That was when my mother became sick. She died not too long afterward, and my dosage increased. I took it the worst, worse than Father did. He simply immersed himself in work."_

_"Your father approved of this?"_

_"He thought it would be best. His wife just died, he had two kids that he couldn't handle alone, one that did not understand yet and one that was slowly spiralling downward. It was the only thing he could do."_

_Miroku looked like he was restraining himself from something, be it lashing out or kicking a hole through the wall. _

_"Was he with you through any of this? Treatment? Sessions?"_

_"Father had to work. He told me this and I understood him. He had to support us. I did visit a psychiatrist every once in a while, for an update. I was doing well with them. It helped me to deal with everything, to be there for Kohaku."_

_"Why are you still on them?"_

_Sango paused, swallowing._

_"I . . . I need them."_

_"If you were doing well, if you're able to deal with things now it means you've gotten stronger. Sango, you don't need them."_

_"You don't understand Miroku, it's not like that -"_

_"Aren't you happy? You promised me -- you promised that you would say something, anything, if you were unhappy."_

_"I couldn't just well tell you I was taking antidepressants!" she cried. "You'd think I was crazy! Unstable! You'd worry about me non-stop and get worked up about every single thing. Every single damn thing."_

_A realization struck him. "Takeda knew about this."_

_She didn't say anything. _

_"Shit. Takeda knew about this and I didn't. That's why he -- he knew something was wrong."_

_"I'm sorry . . . please."_

_"So is this why he always had those issues with me? Because he knew your secret and I didn't? Because he knew you were sad, and yet still with me? Does he think I'm making you unhappy? Am I?"_

_She moved her head side to side very slowly, as if to emphasize her silent answer. _

_"He . . . he just worries, okay? He worries about me! I didn't tell him . . . he and father discussed it so that he could keep an eye on me from time to time. He just cares too much. Too _fucking_ much."_

_Miroku looked up at the ceiling and inhaled deeply as if to calm himself._

_"When I told you that I was serious about us I did it for a reason, Sango. Because it was true. I'd worry about you because I love you, and I'd want to know what was so wrong that I couldn't fix. I would support you, I'd be there."_

_His expression clouded over and for a second, she was more scared of him than she had ever been before._

_"Now I'll tell you what I wouldn't do. I wouldn't force you to do anything, I wouldn't berate you, baby you, pressure you. You are your own person and these are the kind of situations that only you can control. And if you truly want to take control of your life again, I'd be there every step of the way."_

_She clutched her head in her hands, frustration sinking in._

_"Miroku, I . . . can't. Not yet."_

_" . . .You've become reliant, haven't you? Fucking hell, don't tell me you're addicted."_

_"No . . . that's not true. At all."_

_"Then what's true, Sango? You say that they've helped, that you're better, that you're happy with me and the way everything is, why would you continue? To say . . . to say you _need_ them . . . why?"_

_"Miroku, am I . . . am I everything? To you?"_

_He walked over to her swiftly and grabbed her wrists, holding them between his hands tightly. He looked so pained. _

_"You are."_

_She looked so lost, so unsure. _

_"You think I'm lying."_

_He dropped her hands. _

_"Being with you -- and being like I am . . . I'm insecure, Miroku. I can't help it! Despite what everyone says, you're amazing, and I'm lucky to have you."_

_"And you think that's a reason I would cheat?"_

_"No . . . I've always just thought that I was -- sometimes I don't know if you're just playing a trick on me! Making me _feel_ so happy just because you _can

_"You're right Sango, you're right that I wanted to make you happy, but now, I've learned that I can't. I just . . . I just thought I did."_

_He reached out again and held her wrists loosely so she couldn't turn away._

_"Listen, I don't deserve you, I've never had, and I never will, so why would I look elsewhere, when all I needed was right here with me? If I was the reason, a contribution to the problem . . . Sango, I'd never forgive myself."_

_He gathered her in his arms and gripped her tightly, feeling wetness on his shoulder as she pressed her against him. _

_"I always had doubts, and without them, everything just beat on my defenses even more so. Fuck, Miroku, it was because it was too good to be true." The sound was muffled by his shirt. We shouldn't be together." _

_She pushed away from him, eyes shining with the build of tears, harsh and broken determination stealing across her features. He staggered on the spot._

_"Why?" His voice was raspy, choked and if he had said something longer, it would have been incoherent. "Is this my fault?"_

_"I can't . . . I'll just keep on hurting you like this."_

_"Sango, I . . . I don't want to see you like this. I want you to be happy, not for me, not for anyone else, but for you. I don't want it to get worse."_

_Her dainty hands balled into fists and she swiped at her eyes angrily. "How do you know it won't get worse? How the _fuck_ do you know that?" She was becoming short of breath. "I should have said from the beginning . . . don't get involved with me, I need chemicals pumped into my fucking blood to keep me sane."_

_Her knees gave out and she braced her hands on cold tiles, looking at her faint reflection before teardrops marred it. _

_"Miroku . . . I don't want this."_

_"What do you want then?" He bent to her level, brushing her bangs back and kissing her forehead. _

_"And when everything is said and done, we can trust each other and we are ready to start again . . . if your feelings haven't changed . . . come back to me. I can't stop you from feeling what you feel . . . because those feelings are yours."_

_At that moment, they both wondered the same thing, unwilling to stop the questions from floating into their thoughts. _

_That night, they did all the things they used to do, as though nothing had happened. _

_The next morning he had left, and she hadn't rushed downstairs after him, hadn't kissed him goodbye. _

_That afternoon her father had called to offer what little half-hearted comfort he could. She was curt with him, hanging up with a cold farewell. She nearly broke down as the phone clicked into place. She couldn't blame him forever._

_That evening she flushed all her pills down the toilet._

_That was when she realized how much she truly hurt._

_She would see him a few days after that. Sometimes he would come to pick up things he had left, but not everything. _

_It was almost as if he knew that he'd be back one day. _

**Any Given Someday**

Chapter Ten

_The Fallout_

It was a wonderful feeling, the few moments after you wake up before you realize just what the hell you did last night.

It also felt very familiar, warm, and sensual, the way his arm hung loosely around her waist, keeping her back pressed against him. His breathing was even, grazing her shoulder. Early morning sunlight hit their bodies in thin rectangles, shaped by the half opened blinds.

He shifted behind her, hugging her close and his inhalations of air tickling the skin of her neck. She moved with him, running her fingers over the bedspread in front of her and wondering where to go from here.

She inched her body away, hoping he wouldn't notice, but even in sleep he did, his arm curling around her body tighter and holding her back.

Shivering, she closed her eyes and imprinted this feeling in her mind, holding her breath and moving farther from him still. His hold became loose, and she slipped out from under his arm, her hair spilling through his fingers. Her body felt strangely cold.

Exhaling deeply, she set to crawling on the floor, hurriedly looking for her clothes and haphazardly throwing them on, her hands shaking and unable to work the clasps and buttons. She was right; the room looked as though it had gone to hell and back.

Swearing under her breath, she snatched up a crumpled piece of paper and smoothed it flat on the floor. Spotting a pen nearby, she scrawled a short note on the sheet before she heard shuffling behind her.

"Are you leaving?"

She stilled, a quiet "yes," escaping her.

Unsure of how to proceed, she stood slowly, bending her chin down to try and concentrate on buttoning her shirt properly. The paper crumpled once again in her fists, as she prepared to simply walk out the door.

"How was it?"

This was really an inappropriate time for such a comment, but something about his smile, the sly tone of his voice, warmed her frigid thoughts. Her head whipped around, long, unkempt brown hair hugging her body in waves, one hand clutching her shirt together. "What do you mean?"

He was reclined atop the pillows, eyes barely open, his lazy grin not unlike that of a Cheshire cat. "I mean, how was it?"

A tiny smirk flitted about her lips as she touched them. "Oh, it was alright."

"_Alright?_" He looked chastised. "You're not serious."

"Just alright, Miroku. Average. I'm disappointed."

Crossing his arms behind his head, he stretched his head back, the visible length of his body tensing and making her want to look away and think of extremely unsexy things.

"You're bluffing."

The little mischievous streak in her forgot about the weight of the situation and continued to express itself. "I'm not bluffing now, but I'm sure there are a _few_ things I could have been . . . well, _faking_ . . . "She tapped her chin thoughtfully.

He sat up abruptly, rubbing his eyes. "Don't joke about that," he warned.

"Miroku," she said softly, wistfully. Dropping her hand from her shirt, it fell open to her navel and she walked towards him, her bare feet making no sound against the carpet.

All light, distracting moments brushed aside, she held the side of his face and smoothed her fingers through his messy hair. They stayed like that for awhile, simply looking at one another, their education unable to find them the right words.

He barely spoke. "Practice makes perfect."

She swallowed, bending down and pressing a light kiss to his cheek. He reached up and intercepted, moving her mouth to his and pulling her back onto the bed, preparing to do away with the shirt that was so loosely held together.

Her hand on his wrist stopped him, and she twisted her hand into his, stuffing a crumpled ball of paper into his palm.

Hands free, she pushed his shoulders down flat on the mattress, straddling him and kissing him roughly one last time before lifting herself away and stealing from the room.

Taking a long, shuddering breath and gripping the sheets covering him, he remembered the scrap of paper in his hand.

_Wait for me._

--

"Ane-ue, please don't tell me you had a house party while I was away and are now the recipient of a gargantuan hangover."

She looked over from where she had her head resting over her hands on the wheel. "No," was her flat response.

Her brother opened the back door, shoving his backpack in and sitting down in the passenger's seat.

"Why would you think that?" she asked as she turned on the transmission.

He raised his eyebrows. "Because you're parked between two trees on the front lawn of the school."

"Damn it."

"Don't worry, the trees conceal your moment of stupidity."

She backed the car up, ignoring him, and brought them out onto the road. "So how was your trip?"

Instead of answering, he leaned over and sniffed her arm.

"Kohaku! What the hell?" she exclaimed as the car swerved. Thankfully, it was early and the streets were virtually empty.

"Ane-ue," he leaned back in his seat. "You smell."

She took a hand off the wheel to take a whiff of her sleeve. "I do not," she rebuked, glancing at him. Surprisingly, he was smirking a little, staring out of the window.

"What are you smiling about?" she grumbled, a tad annoyed. He was the one who had just gotten back from a trip with stories to tell, yet she was being grilled.

"Ane-ue, you _smell_. Not a bad smell, but the lingering scent in your room the second Saturday in each month. Your blouse is buttoned wrong, your hair is a disaster and you've forgotten to wear your undergarments."

The entire car bounced as she went over a speed bump at full acceleration. Checking first to make sure her lane was clear, she turned her head and began to berate her little brother.

"I woke up late, I had to rush to pick you up . . . and I didn't feel like wearing a bra today! I'm a girl, I need to feel freedom. You're a boy, you wouldn't understand."

"Oh, I understand just fine."

"And why would that be?" she asked sharply, her lip twitching.

It was his turn to be defensive and embarrassed. "Don't try and turn the conversation to me! You know that I instinctively think this way because of you!"

She reached over and patted the top of his head, his hair becoming unruly.

"Really, Ane-ue," he spoke up as she drew her hand back to the steering wheel. "You . . . you spent the night with him didn't you?"

The car came to a screeching halt, momentarily scaring a pedestrian. She waved a mimed apology.

Leaning on her elbow, she looked out of the window on the driver's side, staring idly at her reflection in the side mirror. 'Objects in mirror are closer than they appear . . .'

"Ane-ue," Kohaku prodded. "The light's green."

Automatically, she pressed down on the gas pedal and the car lurched forward.

"Put your hands on the wheel!" he exclaimed.

"I know what I'm doing," she scoffed, gripping it violently.

"You're odd this morning, Ane-ue," he observed quietly. "Why?"

"I did, okay? I spent the night with him!"

"And?"

"We did it. Had relations. Formed a coalition. Slept together. Shared carnal knowledge. Did the horizontal tango."

Kohaku was nearly thrown out of his seat as she turned sharply onto their street.

They came to a sharp stop seconds later in the driveway; Sango letting go of the wheel and massaging her temples. "Am I bad sister?" she said in a muffled voice.

"No, no, not at all," Kohaku said quickly. "Actually, it's okay that we can talk about these things. I feel more like your brother than some kid you have take care of."

She looked up at him. "Really?"

He nodded. "So, how was it?"

She punched him playfully and gave him an exasperated look. "Average, Kohaku."

He ran around the hood of the car to bother her as he grabbed his bag from the backseat. "Does this mean you're back together n-"

"No," Sango cut him off.

Kohaku withdrew, taken aback, following Sango up the porch steps in shock. "Wow Ane-ue, I see you in a whole different light now. Hooking up for a night?"

She glared at him, not meaning to be so harsh but doing it anyway. "Let's not talk about it anymore."

The wind chimes jingled merrily as Sango tapped on the largest hollow cylinder, listening to the sound for a few seconds before inserting her key in the lock and opening the door.

Kohaku's bag thudded loudly on the ground as he walked past her into the kitchen, opening cabinets and the fridge.

A loud crack, and one of the plates lay along the floor broken into hundreds of pieces.

"Kohaku, what are you -"

"Why is he here?" he inquired, pointing. Sango filled with dread as she walked into the kitchen as well, and was greeted with the sight of a half-asleep Kuranosuke sitting up on the couch.

"Sango-san," he uttered, his throat still raspy, dry and misused. "You're back."

She made an unclear noise in the affirmative, a cross between a cough and a hiccup.

He stood up, dizzying himself from the sudden action, stumbling to her and holding her by her shoulders.

"Are you okay?" he croaked. "Where were you last night?"

Sighing, she lifted his hands away and placed them back at his sides, where they hung limply. "Takeda-san, we need to talk."

She turned towards Kohaku, gesturing for him to leave, and he obeyed.

They sat down together on the couch, Sango taking a deep breath in preparation for her words, and Kuranosuke beating her to speaking.

"Do you regret it?"

"Do I regret . . . it?" she echoed, her hands folding on her lap.

"Sango, if you -"

She interrupted. She was tired of him interrupting her and putting words in her mouth. "I don't," she whispered, looking at him. It hurt her to say this. "I don't regret sleeping with Miroku."

There. No veiled truths, no white lies. Nothing said just to keep the other happy and oblivious.

He looked as though someone had suddenly shot him in the back of the head with a nailgun; in sudden pain, his eyes vacant.

"Sango-san . . . I'll forgive you." He took her hands again and held them to his chest. "You're still confused, it's the withdrawal, I'm sure it is."

Her stare hardened. "It's not the withdrawal. I'm perfectly fine."

"It has to be something . . . Sango . . . "

"It's not that _simple_, Takeda-san," she sighed, frustrated. "I don't want forgiveness. I don't want to just forget about this, to forget about what happened, to forget about Miroku. I was never ready, _we_ weren't ready, and Takeda," she stared at him, tiny droplets of tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. "I just can't _do_ this anymore. And that's how I feel."

She pulled her hands away. He didn't try to stop her.

"But . . . Sango-san . . ."

"I think it's best if you leave."

Instead of complying, he buried his face his hands, raking at his face with his nails, no longer the collected and complacent businessman he was at work. "Why?" he demanded, his eyebrows knit together and his expression a confused mask.

"Why him?"

"Takeda, please, it's not your fault - "

"What can I _do_ Sango? No matter what - I tried - I worked so hard, I did it all for you! It was _always_ for _you_!"

Her tears flowed more freely now. She hated these tears; she needn't shed them if she had only made the right decision just days ago.

"Stop it Takeda-san. You're -- you're hurting me."

"I can't lie. I always did so much for you, Sango. And I was so happy when we were together. I had our future planned, I wanted to make sure you never had to be upset ever again. That you knew you could turn to something else . . . "

"I can't continue to lie to you either. Takeda . . . if I was never sad again, I would never know what true happiness was."

"But -- I love you."

"And I'm sorry."

She enveloped him into a hug, trying to offer him everything else she had other than what he wanted. "I'm sorry, Kuranosuke-san. But thank you. I knew from the beginning that you did nothing short of care for me . . . I'm sorry I had to worry you so, make you waste your time on me."

"Never, Sango . . . it was never wasted. I just don't . . . Sango, I knew I couldn't -- I can't protect you from everything, and I'm sorry as well. I'm sorry that I what I offered wasn't enough to keep you happy. I'm sorry that in a vain attempt at protection, I hurt you."

He pulled back and held her face gently, staring at her as if he was trying to memorize her face. For him, she smiled with tears still in her eyes.

"Sango, I understand."

--

_"I love you_," he whispered into her shoulder. _"Sango, I love you so much._"

She collided with the wood panelling of the floor. Letting the initial impact sink in, she lay still for a moment, hot and bothered. "Shit . . ." she swore under her breath. "Shit."

"You okay?"

Sitting up, she dusted herself off quickly and gave her brother a nonchalant look. "Just fell off the couch."

He raised his eyebrows dubiously. "Having a bad dream?"

"Not a bad one . . ."

"Oh," he started to smirk. "Just a vivid one."

Sighing, she fell back onto the couch and stretched her arms above her head, before slouching and closing her eyes.

"What's the story, Ane-ue?" Kohaku asked knowingly as he sidled over and plopped down next to her. "Why is my big sister all fidgety, yet tired?" He slapped her lightly on the wrist. "Hands away from mouth, please."

With a quiet huff she secured her hands beneath her thighs. "Kohaku . . ." she said with a slight whine. "Don't ask me to explain it."

He leaned over till he was laying on his back and crossed his feet over his ankles, resting them across Sango's lap. "Will you -- "

"I still don't know Kohaku!" She sounded angry. "I do . . . but then -"

"Did you tell Kuranosuke to leave?" he cut in suddenly. "If yes, why?"

She began to bite her lip instead, and she could feel her fingers wriggling around beneath her legs. "Because I always knew that that was the wrong thing to do, Kohaku. I hurt him. He's always gone out of his way. He was just . . . looking out for me, in his own way."

"So you knew it was wrong."

She didn't answer, so he assumed she did.

"Well then, how did you feel with Miroku?" he asked casually. Immediately, she began to flush.

"Kohaku!" she exclaimed, now a stunning shade of pink.

"I didn't mean _that_," he scoffed. "Just, _with_ him. Although if you want to refer to _that_, then by all means, be my guest."

Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back.

A foot nudged her sharply in the side. "Don't let your thoughts wander _too_ far," Kohaku said matter-of-factly. "The real thing's waiting."

Prying her hands out from beneath her thighs, she shoved Kohaku's feet away and stood up, idly brushing her fingers through her hair.

"Kohaku," she remarked with a slightly higher voice than usual. "What if - "

"_Go_, Ane-ue. Go, and tomorrow morning I'll never remember a time when I was so absolutely delighted to be disgusted in my entire life."

Furiously raking her fingers through her hair, she turned to Kohaku in the doorway. "How do I look?"

He grinned. "He won't mind."

She was just about to go when she doubled back in realization. "He won't mind _what_, exactly?"

Sighing, her brother ran up the hall and closed the door, clicking the lock shut before she could argue.

--

She wasn't about to be the one who made Takeda Kuranosuke give up his dreams of fulfillment for nothing.

Her hands were nearly white as she gripped the wheel. This was the only other place she could think of. He wasn't at home, and she _had_ left early enough this morning that he could have gone to work.

With a tiny sliver of renewed hope, she walked towards the entrance of the drugstore, her mind still frantically trying to concoct some semblance of dialogue. What was she going to say?

Her pace quickened as she saw the faint outline of a tall lean figure through the glass. The doors slid open for her, and she opened her mouth to speak when -

"I'm filling in for him today."

Sango tried not to look too crestfallen. "Inuyasha . . . " she tried to say cheerfully. "How are you?"

He narrowed his eyes at her sourly and crossed his arms. "Don't act like you're so happy to see me. I know you're looking for Miroku. Need I ask why?"

"Inuyasha," Sango said flatly, dropping her happy exterior. "Where is he?"

"He would never shut up about you, you know that? I knew that you were probably going to get desperate for some lovin' sooner or later, I mean, the way you two used to go at it. The next day he'd pass me at work and make some stupid remark that goes . . . that goes something like, 'last night Sango really enjoyed it when I - "

"So, about my car insurance - " she spoke over him loudly.

"We switched schedules," Inuyasha answered grudgingly. "A weekend shift. With no fucking notice, might I add. He just called me up, _left a message_, and told me to have a good day. What a pain in the ass."

While the man grumbled about his predicament, she let this new information sink in. He wasn't at home either . . . maybe he went out? Or maybe . . . he was even looking for her too?

Her thoughts were shaken from her head as a soft tap on her shoulder and a timid, high pitched voice sounded behind her. One that was _painfully _familiar.

Slowly, she turned her head to take in the appearance of the newcomer.

"Aren't you . . . her? I knew it. You're Sango."

--

_And this bitter pill is leaving you with such an angry mouth,  
One that's void of all discretion,  
Such an awful tearing sound._

_ -- _Dashboard Confessional, This Bitter Pill


	11. Deliriunaware

_Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha/ Dashboard Confessional._

(10/28/04)

**A/N: **Shima is a character that appears late in the manga or anime episode 161, for anyone who follows the CN episodes only. I'm Canadian, and I happen to know we're real behind. Anyway, she's just a girl who appears and there's some whole big misunderstanding, etc. Yeah.

**Windesprite - **My made up words are prettier than real words. **ohJoy** -Night is _the_ time. I'd rather sleep in till afternoon than get up early. **KaguratheWind, kirara980-**My stories are the most anticlimatic, plotlessthings ever, but thank you anyway. **Aamalie **- You do not love me. You hate me. I have evidence! **RavenFireI **- It's probably just confusing, lol. Stupid May can't write coherently.lol, get on Aamalie's nerves?**Starzki **- "And then they all died" is probably goingto start sounding real good.**Iggy04** - Plot twist? Was there a plot to begin with? Plot? What's that? **Lady Sango 7** - Do not fear, I don't neglect Koharu! Shewill be making an appearancein another story. Okay, I'll stop plugging now. Where are you? I miss ya! **Lily Thorne** - Iam just a confusing girl, aren't I? **Demon Exterminator Barbie** - It'sabout fourAM now, we should sleep. **Flaming Red Fox **- I don't know, I'm just a drama/angst sort of girl. I don't really go for much fluff. Which might explain why my fluff is crap. Professional Writer? The day that happens mobs will come after me with torches and pitchforks. **eef - **At first I thought your review was three reasons the ending was messed up, lol. Let's just say I was a little bit relieved when I reread. But thanks...those are really overwhelming things to say, don't deserve none of it. Crap this is getting too long. Sorry people I don't mention, but I still have lots more love to send through computer screens. Thank you all for reviewing. Have a safe and happy holiday.

-- May

* * *

_"Are you sure this won't get us into trouble?" Sango asked worriedly, eyeing the lock on the door._

_"No, no, it's fine, don't worry about a thing," he insisted as he held her tightly. "It was nice of you to come by today."_

_"Wasn't it?" she replied, sounding somewhat uncomfortable. _

_"Unless . . . you came by for anything else," he looked at her searchingly. _

_She shook her head, lightly kissing him on the cheek. "To see you, of course. But not in a fitting room," she added with a shake of her head._

_He kissed her back. "It's . . .cozy. Well what?" he burst at her reprimanding look. "Where else could we go? We have about fifteen minutes."_

_Leaning against him lazily, she arched an eyebrow. "I swear we had fifteen minutes half an hour ago."_

_He shrugged. "I'm extending my break."_

_Holding her face and kissing her again, she sighed in amused exasperation. "It's a surprise the drugstore doesn't get cleared out when you're on duty."_

_"Why would you think that, buttercup?" he grinned. "I'm the best there is." _

_He straightened arrogantly, and she laughed. "No one will even try anything as long as I'm here!"_

_She snuggled against him again, thinking about what to say next._

_"Miroku . . . you're not exactly new to relationships, are you?"_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"I mean . . ." she bit her lip and then a little bit of her thumbnail. "Like, you've had girlfriends before me. Obviously."_

_"Well . . . I have, being the stud that I am," he joked, then his tone softened. "But you're really something, Sango. I can see myself with you for a really long time."_

_"You mean that?" she asked, flushing. _

_"Yes. Why do you ask? Want to meet up with the former ladies and discuss my finer qualities?"_

_"Like how dirty you are?" Sango suggested with a smile. "How you are a pervert with no modesty?"_

_She tilted her head back in thought. "How you work security, and random items suddenly appear on the kitchen table? You use fitting rooms _not_ for trying on clothes." She rolled her eyes. _

_"Hey, I did bring some clothes for you to try on."_

_Glancing towards the little hook where a set of lingerie hung off of a hanger, she rolled her eyes once again._

_"And you're the only girl I bring to my special fitting room."_

_"I'd hate to think of what you do in here without me."_

_"Absolutely nothing," he filled in, absently brushing his fingers through her hair. "Well, congratulations Sango, you are officially an expert on me."_

_"I study every night."_

_"You have a beauty mark - " he pushed her sweater over the curve of her shoulder, "here," and sure enough, there it was. Reaching around her and trailing his fingers down the rounded bumps of her spine he pressed lightly at the very base of her back. "There's one here too." He cupped her rear in resignation. "Since my hand was so close, I might as well . . . " he laughed._

_Suddenly very self-conscious, her skin became heated and she pushed his hand away as affectionately as she could._

_He only put them back on her hips, where they travelled underneath her shirt and rested along old scars._

_"When you were sixteen Kohaku crashed his bike into yours and you had to get stitches."_

_"You remember that?"_

_"Yes, you told me when I kept on touching it."_

_His fingers tickled her sides, bringing her sweater off her shoulders and onto the ground. "Another beauty mark," he said softly, kissing her collarbone. "And here," he brushed her bangs aside, "is a scar from when you scratched a pimple off."_

_She laughed quietly, gently moving her hands along him as well. "I know for a fact that you have a beauty mark here," she pressed on his hipbone. "And quite a collection of scratches, right here," she trailed her hands up and down his back._

_"From you," he reminded her, pulling her face forward and kissing her. _

_"You know what?" she sighed, warm in his embrace. "You need to go back to work."_

_"After you try those on."_

_"No."_

_"I suppose that's okay. I wouldn't want Inuyasha ogling you naked."_

_"What?"_

_He turned her shoulders slightly and pointed to the corner of the ceiling. "Wave with me, and mouth, 'Hi Inuyasha!' "_

_She crossed her arms and shook her head, picking up her sweater and covering herself. "You pervert."_

_"Technically, he's the pervert, engaging in voyeurism. It doesn't matter, he can learn a thing or two from watching professionals."_

**Any Given Someday**

Chapter Eleven

_Deliriunaware_

"Hi," the girl said uncertainly. Her face was slightly rounded, and young. Long dark bangs fell over the corners of her hesitant eyes.

"Get back behind the counter, stupid," Inuyasha snapped at her. "Someone might need help with all the medicine and crap, and heaven forbid, they might ask _me_."

Ignoring him, the girl gestured to Sango to follow her around the counter. "I'm the new pharmaceutical assistant," she explained. "Shoku Shima."

"Shima . . ." Sango echoed.

"I'm a friend of Miroku," she offered, still looking unsure.

"I'm sure you are," Sango replied, not hiding her sarcasm. "I knew your voice was familiar."

"It was you then, right? You were the one that called." She didn't sound as if that were remotely new to her. "You two are together."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The girl let out a light laugh. It fell on Sango's ears like pins on a sheet of glass.

"Don't you? Or do you think that Miroku and I were together, and you just don't want to admit it to yourself?"

Sango narrowed her eyes at the girl and now wished she had made more of an effort to look presentable.

"But we're not together, and we weren't even together when you called that time."

Sango shook her head, recovering. "Yeah, you just live in the neighboring apartment and your phone lines are crossed."

Shima returned her icy tone with a knowing smile. "I didn't say I wasn't there with him, I'm just saying we weren't together, and we are not."

"Let me guess, ex-girlfriend with occasional benefits?"

At this, a slight crease appeared in Shima's forehead as she frowned. "No, I'm not like that at all. Miroku and I, we are good friends. I admit . . . we tried dating once, and it turned out horribly."

She was smiling again, propping her elbow on the counter and leaning into her palm. "I don't blame you for thinking that, it's completely understandable."

Sango looked away, uncomfortable. "I still don't see how this all leads to you confronting me like this . . ."

Shima's eyes shifted and she suddenly looked a little guilty. "Sango . . . Kirisame, isn't it?"

As Sango nodded in confirmation, she continued, lowering her voice. "The reason that I was there was because Miroku-san hasn't been at his best lately, which I'm sure you know."

"Neither am I," she found herself saying. "It's been strange, and life seems normal enough . . . but still . . . strange." Here she was divulging life's little details to someone she barely knew.

"He's been asking me for help. Concerning depression, prescription drugs . . . he may not have shown it or you may not have noticed, but he was distraught, Kirisame-san. He was worried, not only about you but about what he'd done, and if it would only hurt you further, as it relates to your problem."

"You're . . . he asked you not to tell me this. I can see it in your face," Sango said in a cracking voice. "Why?"

"Because," Shima sighed, tugging at her collar. "As I said before, you may not have seen it, but he was truly concerned. All I could tell him was that it was a wake-up call to the both of you to see where your actions would take you, and their consequences. He always intended to be a part of your life."

"Where . . .where is he now?"

"About you, he's . . . he's not sure anymore. Apparently, something happened with you and an old friend?" Shima said. "One of two things, you've moved on, or you're doing all you can to forget him. Where he _is_, I don't know. I'm sorry. "

"Shit," Sango swore, biting at her nails. "Damn it."

Shima gave her a curious look. "What do you think?"

"I know . . . I know what I have to do, but . . . it's too late."

A distant, closed aura formed around Shima, whose eyes had closed halfway, somewhat dreamily. "It's never too late," she said, her voice wistful. "You have something incredible within your reach, Kirisame-san, hold it tightly and never let it go."

"I did."

"Well, in your case, it was never gone."

--

"So?" Kohaku asked in excitement as his older sister walked in the door. "What happened?"

She shook her head wearily and slumped next to him on the couch. "I have no idea where he is."

"His place? Work?"

"No."

"Damn." Kohaku slumped as well. "What can you do now?"

"I don't know," Sango sighed. "Now that I actually have the will to go and talk with him, he's nowhere to be found."

"And the will to talk with him came _after_ the will to get in bed and -"

She silenced him with a look. "I guess I'll just have to wait. Maybe he'll be at work tomorrow morning . . ."

--

"We had a baby girl. A little baby girl, and we named her Mina."

"That's wonderful!" Sango exclaimed, trying her best to sound genuinely happy. Truthfully, she was, it was just hard to express it when she had felt herself shrink upon seeing the good old Mr. Omura, back at his post.

Strange; a week ago and she would have been overjoyed.

She couldn't concentrate on a single thing. Every thought that passed through her mind was a variation of, 'where is he?' Not even the first few days she had been without him did she find herself as concentrated on his whereabouts as much as she was now.

_Miroku. _She flipped a pen between her fingers._ Now that I'm done hiding from myself, I can't find you!_

--

A light drizzle came with the transition of seasons, forming droplets of water on Sango's skin as she found herself looking up. The sun was out. It was one of those strange days when the sun flooded the sky, and you were fooled from the other side of the window thinking it was warm and dry outside. Once you left the protection of your home, you found that it rained near invisible drops. A sharp chill was present in the air.

It was a strange sight for those who chose to venture out this late afternoon, either to walk their dogs or run small errands. In fact, the few who were close enough craned their necks and paused to check if this girl was okay.

Well, not so much _girl_, for she was a full grown woman, however the way she was standing in the middle of the field, her shoes dangling from one hand as she shaded her eyes with the other, facing the rain and trying to taste it with her tongue.

And for one moment, one flash of lightning, one raindrop in a torrent, one tear in an ocean, she was a lost little girl.

_I'm not hiding from myself anymore. _

A shiver slid down her spine as she spoke, but not because she was cold. "I've been looking for you."

An almost inaudible chuckle. "Or so I've heard."

Looking at him, she almost felt her entire body warm, until the point she realized that he was waiting expectantly for her to speak, and suddenly a lump had manifested in her throat.

"Where have you been?" Damn, her voice sounded so ragged.

"Not at work, not at the old place. I've been out. Wandering, if you will. Visiting old places."

"That sounds like a good way to spend your weekend . . . " she commented awkwardly. She knew this wasn't going to start out smoothly.

"I've spent a lot of my time . . . revisiting old memories."

"They're not old." It spilled out before she could stop it. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "Miroku, I - "

"You always had trouble going first." He sounded amused. "Would you like me to start?"

Embarrassed, her head barely moved as she nodded.

"I haven't much to say right now . . . I think I've said and done what I could. True, there are some things I wish I haven't done; things I regret. I regret, " he started to count on his fingers. "Hurting you, playing with your feelings, telling you how serious we were while I took my own honesty lightly. I regret not asking you more and you not telling me more."

He held on to her limp fingers loosely and she let him. "Sango, I am always willing to wait for you. You can ask me for all the time in the world . . . and I would wait. I'm not going to stall, I'm not going to force you through any more of this hell. Why take more time alone when all we do is pity ourselves and miss each other?"

She made herself laugh a little, in spite of themselves, as if it would lighten the mood just a tiny bit, before answering him.

"The past few weeks . . . have been terrible. I knew that you wanted me to be happy for myself, and not just for anyone else, and I tried, I swear I did. I almost reached that happiness. What stopped me was . . . you. That last part of me was you."

Her fingers moved up his arms and shoulders and pulled his face to hers. She kissed him quickly, and he was leaning forward so she couldn't pull away.

"Miroku," she gasped, breaking their kiss. "The day you left I . . . I never took them again. It hurt, everything hurt so much because of it, and I let it hurt me, so that one day, _some_ day you'd trust me again."

She darted forward and seized him in another kiss, stopping it before he could respond.

"Everything . . . everything built up between us, until it reached that breaking point that just erupted in chaos. I hurt you, we hurt each other, I ran away from you and all the pieces left after the fall, all while knowing my actions were wrong," she paused to catch her breath.

"I know what I've done, what we've done to each other. I know what hurt is and what these feelings are. To be happy is to be happy with what you are. And when I lost you, I lost so much, and I don't want to lose anything anymore."

Barely noticing her bated breath, she closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against his, feeling her eyelashes graze his face.

"And after everything is said and done," she whispered. "You're all I have left to gain."

"Sango," he said gently. "Sango, I wish it could be as simple as going back to what it was before -- it's not. You didn't trust me, we lied . . . I'd be afraid of doing something to hurt you."

Pulling back, she shook her head quickly. "I don't want that. What we had - have, is there, the feelings. They were always there." Swallowing, she dropped his hands and took a step backwards from him.

"It's so hard to express this . . . " she muttered, rubbing her temples. "Miroku, what I'm trying to say is that I don't want to compare now with then, and worry about making mistakes. This is . . . no secrets, no lies, if I'm doing something to piss you off, then tell me! Miroku, I just --" she sucked in a breath and bit on the inside of her cheek, motioning to him to let her finish.

"We're going to make more mistakes in the future, but I want . . . I want to make them with you, learn from them with you, and better myself -- with you."

She wavered on the spot at the energy that was being sucked from her body and poured into her words. _He and I . . . only able to show the feelings that were wrong._

"Miroku . . . I didn't want to scare you away." She said it fiercely, determination set in her gaze.

"I'm asking you not to go."

He closed the space between them with a swift stride and had lifted her from the ground just as she thought her knees would give out from beneath her.

"Sango," his voice was muffled by the way his face was placed against her neck and shoulder. "The only thing that scared me was when I thought I'd never get you back."

Her fingers curled around the loose fabric of his shirt. "Would you still wait?"

She grew dizzy with emotion, and maybe because he was spinning them, but either way she landed gently on the ground, his body cushioning her fall on the grass. The ground was wet, and their clothes were now a mess, and somewhere in the back of her mind, it registered that people were staring, but she didn't care.

Laying atop his chest, she revelled in the rhythm of his heartbeat and steady breathing for a moment as they absorbed what exactly had just happened. His fingers absently stroked her hair and down her back, playing with a few strands in thought.

"Sango." He hoisted her closer to his level, so that the top of her head was level with his chin. "I don't want to miss anything. I want us to support one another. I want to be there when you're falling, when you hit the ground."

Craning her neck, she softly kissed the line of his jaw as he spoke.

"Stay. Stay forever, and a day."

He rolled over, gripping her waist and kissing her parted lips twice. Pushing her bangs back and kissing her forehead, she sighed, and held him tightly as their breaths fell in time together.

Because when she was with him, they were the only people in the world.

--

-

_But the hours they creep  
The patterns repeat  
Don't be concerned  
You know I'll be fine on my own.  
I never said don't go_

_-- _Dashboard Confessional, This Ruined Puzzle


	12. For Real

_All previous disclaimers apply._

(11/16/04)

**A/N: **Here we are! I thought it would never end. I would complain about this story more, but I don't want to upset anyone. After all, it would make it look like I write crappy stories on purpose. Now, I couldn't help but sneak a bit of angst in there, so I did. I hope you don't mind. I am more familiar with angst, after all. I'd really like to thank everyone who read this. I never expected it to get very far. It was just something that I decided to write with the likes of Katrina5 in mind. I'm glad most enjoyed it. As for future works . . . I don't really know. I like to work on a ton of things at one time, so it's anyone's guess! Once again, thank you all and lots of love.

* * *

----------# 

_She walked along where the ocean met the sand, feeling the water slide over her feet just above the jut of her ankle bone._

_Large rocks lined the coast, and she sat down upon one, tilting her head and letting her hair wave about her shoulders with the wind. Looking into her palm, she stared at a tiny white capsule in the centre of it, before frowning and flinging it into the water below. _

_"You left so early this morning. I thought you were running away."_

_Startled, she looked over her shoulder to see him slightly elevated from her level on another boulder. _

_"No, not really." She turned back to the ocean, watching the rise and fall of the waves, the spray of water along the shoreline. "I couldn't sleep, so I wanted to watch the sun rise."_

_"And you didn't want me to come?" He was half-joking, half serious._

_"You looked very comfortable, and I didn't want to disturb you," she explained, leaning onto her arms. "And what doesn't sound more like nagging than, 'wake up and take me out for a walk at the crack of dawn!'" _

_"Well, if you promised I'd get something afterward . . ."_

_"No, you wouldn't. And if I didn't, would you go somewhere else to get it?"_

_He straightened at the words. "Sango . . ."_

_"I wanted to sit here alone, Miroku," she said quietly, not snapping as she had previously._

_"Listen." He moved to sit behind her and leaned his chin on her shoulder. "I know you didn't mean that."_

_Staring out onto the horizon, leaned back onto him. It was how she always responded and it had eventually become habit. "And what if I did?" she whispered._

_"I would have to prove you wrong," he told her, kissing below her ear. "That you were the only one."_

_She tried to move out of his reach but he secured his arms around her body. Again, she resisted but only succeeded in jerking him closer. _

_"I might be the only one you live with, but not the only one you kiss like you're kissing me right now."_

_He stopped then, and pulled away from her. "Sango," he said tightly. "Don't think like this."_

_"Then give me a reason not to." The waves crashed gently onto the rocks. "Even when I'm with you, you can't resist a pretty face. What? Have you seen mine too often now?"_

_Staring at her, he took her hand and forced it to hold his. "What can I do to make you think otherwise? I'm with you, I have been with you for quite a long time. You stay with me. That has to mean something to you."_

_"It does," she said hollowly. "This means too much. I don't know. I can just never tell with you."_

_She pulled her hand away and put distance between them. "I wanted to be alone this morning, Miroku."_

_"I understand." He stood up and began to climb over rocks back to the road. "When you come home we can talk about this."_

_When she returned home, she told him everything was fine and that she had simply misunderstood. At night, they lay next to each other as always, and she held him close, though it felt as though there was a great distance between them._

_And that talk they were supposed to have?_

_It was never spoken of again. _

_Because he was going to prove her wrong. He had to. _

**Any Given Someday**

Chapter Twelve

_For Real_

When got home, the first thing she did was hug Kohaku.

"Ane-ue," he gasped, choking. "Did things go well?"

She let go of him, sitting down and exhaling deeply. "I'm not sure, but I hope they go well starting now."

A grin threatened to escape him. "So why are you back home?"

"Because we all have to go home after a while, Kohaku," she said smartly, rolling her eyes.

"So why isn't he here?"

"He's not coming back just _yet_. Be patient. We have some issues . . . Okay, we have _a lot_ of issues to work out first. At least, the worst has been dealt with."

Her brother leaned over and hugged her back. "I'm glad for that."

She patted his back affectionately. "Me too."

There was a lapse of silence before Kohaku sat up straight. "I just remembered, this came underneath the door not too long after you left."

He rummaged through the papers on top of the coffee table and pulled out an unmarked envelope. "Here," he held it towards her.

She eyed it skeptically. "I could think of a number of things that come in unmarked envelopes."

He gave her a expectant look and shook the envelope impatiently. "Take it. It feels like a piece of paper, Ane-ue. Paper won't kill you, just cut you up a lot. If you cut yourself up a lot, it's your own fault."

Sticking out her tongue at him, she took the envelope and ripped it across the opening. Opening it, she frowned as she pulled out a photo.

"What is it?" Kohaku pried.

It was taken at an awkward angle, with half of her body and Miroku's shoulders visible. He had his arms around her waist and she was laughing, trying to pull his hands away. Turning it over, she was surprised at what was written, her eyes widening.

--

_It was sort of an off and on thing. Sometimes he'd spend the night and sometimes he wouldn't. He heard them spend hours upon hours talking; their voices were muffled through the walls._

_Sometimes they'd spend the night doing . . . other things, and yes, the sounds were muffled through the walls. Which reminded him, he still had to get that soundproofing done._

_They clashed on a few things, fought; a few shouting matches scattered here and there, but it served as their release. It wasn't a fairy tale world and they no longer pretended that it was, using some choice vulgar wording along the way. Not to mention that after the anger, there was always the reconciliation. They seemed to enjoy that part quite a bit. _

_One thing he thought he sorely needed to inform them was that while they weren't a fairy tale, they weren't an sappy romance novel either. He'd never thought he had to be afraid of opening closed doors in his own house. _

_Afterward, Miroku had let him know that next time he'd put a sock on the doorknob. _

_It was going to be a permanent arrangement, and Kohaku knew that. But he didn't mind. Not at all. _

--

"I didn't think we'd be doing this so quickly, Miroku," Sango giggled as she tensed her legs.

"Me neither," he agreed, holding on to either one of her thighs.

"Me especially," Kohaku chimed in, pulling the recycling bin out to the curb for pickup.

The young cat played on the branches of a tree happily, batting at leaves and sharpening her claws.

"Kirara," Sango said invitingly. "It's cold out here isn't it? Come on down and into the house now."

The object of her bribery meowed and dug her claws into the bark, baring tiny fangs as she yawned lazily.

"How did she get up there anyway?" Kohaku asked calmly, observing their struggle with his hands in his pockets. "She usually doesn't go outside unless someone lets her out accidentally."

For some reasons more than others, Kohaku suspected Miroku was pretty relieved his face wasn't visible to Kohaku, due to Sango sitting on his shoulders. Not like he wasn't always in that -- position. He shuddered at the thought.

Sighing in defeat, Kohaku sighed and picked up a rake, disinterestedly pushing the autumn leaves into a pile as he muttered. "Can't even shut the door first . . . "

There was a slight scuffling behind him as Kohaku concentrated at his task. He ignored it, until he heard the last syllable of 'Kirara' extend into a long cry, and he was knocked backwards, the makeshift pile of leaves crumbling beneath his weight.

That was how Kohaku found himself in a pile beneath his sister and her boyfriend. Although he should be scared to death that they would do the wicked on Wednesday right there on the front lawn, that he would be unable to escape, or that Kirara would fall from her precarious perch on the tree branch . . . he wasn't.

He craned his neck up to look at his sister, and he remembered the contents of the envelope she had promptly taped onto the fridge. A picture, taken not so long ago, previously unmarked.

It was her and Miroku, at an awkward angle, his arms holding her around the waist, and she was laughing; laughing so hard there were tears in her eyes.

_Smile like this again._

_- Takeda Kuranosuke_

On the back of the photo it was written in neat, printed lettering. She'd read it, her smile softening.

"Get off me, please," Kohaku groaned, clawing the ground in attempt to wedge himself out from in between them and the ground.

All he heard was a low moaning and a giggle. Beginnings of a migraine began to form in his head.

"Please, please don't," he clasped his hands together in prayer. He wriggled, ignoring the pain in his legs as they were nearly flattened, succeeding only in moving forward an inch. "Damn it! Just get a room already!"

She laughed at him and said that they would later tonight, and as he studied her face, he noticed that she was smiling that way again.

Today wasn't just any oldday.

--

-

_And color the coast with your smile;  
It's the most genuine thing I've ever seen.  
I was so lost,  
But now I believe._

-- Dashboard Confessional, Carry This Picture


End file.
